Merciless
by KillingEdge
Summary: An Ionian Fox gains her greatest wish-Humanity. However, being human comes with its share of hardships. Ahri origin story.
1. Dawn

A light rain was falling in southern Ionia. It cooled the morning air and turned the forest a dull tint of gray, creating tiny streams of water through the fallen branches and leaves of the forest floor.

A young female fox padded quietly between the trunks of the towering trees, prowling for its next meal. It was not happy. Foxes had no concept of luxury, but it did prefer the warmth of its den to the rain that dampened its fur and hindered its ability to smell its prey. But it could not return now. Not before it had eaten. A fox never knew exactly what its next meal would be, or if it would come at all. To skip a meal could mean death. Such is the life of a wild animal.

The rain did have its advantages, however; the gray sheet of falling water helped to hide its long, white body. Its white fur was its curse- all the other foxes had coats in shades of gray, or brown, or orange, allowing them to hide from both prey and predators alike. The fox had had to work so much harder than they to ensure its own survival from day to day. But it had since birth, and would continue to do so until its death. Its instincts would not allow otherwise. Mentally, it was a fox just like any other, save for one thing.

It was not content with being a fox. It was not happy with the body it had been born into –and not just because it was white, and an inconvenience.

It wanted to be human.

It assumed that such desires were unwarranted by most foxes, and indeed, most other animals, but it had always felt some strange connection to the world around itself, something more than that felt by other foxes.

It had seen them, the humans. Studied them, watched them. It had visited their towns and villages, eyeing them intently. They were the masters of both the physical world and the magic within it. It watched in wonder as they worked the invisible energy into spells, conjuring fire to light a torch, or water to extinguish an out of control blaze. It watched as they cleared trees to make their homes, used the wood for tools, and used them to irrigate and plow fields to grow crops to feed themselves. And often, it watched as they hunted animals to eat, just as the fox was doing now.

No beast of the woods was stronger than they, and no obstacle seemed to be able to stand in their path. The fox wanted very much to be one of them, to be a part of that world, to hold that power.

Movement in the brush called the fox's attention to the present. The fox's eyes snapped forward, scanning the tall grass for more movement, its nine snow-white tails twitching in anticipation.

There – a rabbit, standing on its hind legs, eyes wide, searching the vicinity for danger.

The fox dashed into action. As swift as a bolt of lightning, it descended upon the rabbit, snapping it up in its ash colored jaw. As the rodent squirmed, trying to get free, the fox broke its neck without a second though. After all, such things as mercy had no place in a fox's heart.

* * *

Later, as morning passed into midday, the fox was again slinking through the forest, this time on its way home. The rain had intensified, and the fox gave up hunting in the downpour. A distant crash of thunder resonated through the trees and in the fox's very bones. The fox's instincts drove it faster onward to shelter.

As the thunder subsided, a new sound, faint, distant, floated on the wind. It was a curious thing– a ringing noise, not unlike the sound of the bells it had heard in many a human town, but not so deep or resonating. It was fast and angry, almost violent.

Against its instinct's driving need for it to find shelter, the fox followed the noise to its source. It ran through the woods for hours, searching for what was making the riotous din. As the fox got nearer and the sun began to sink low in the sky, the sounds ceased altogether. More curious now than ever, the fox pressed on.

The rain had finally stopped as the fox came to a line of trees. It was sure that _something _lay on the other side.

With the ceasing of the rain, the setting sun was able to break through the clouds at last. It cast a bright orange light that seemed as thick as honey, and it seeped through the gaps in the trees before the animal. Tentatively, the fox stepped between them.

What lay before it would be considered a grisly sight were it glimpsed through human eyes, but the fox felt only a deepening sense of puzzlement.

Dozens upon dozens of humans lay dead in the field beyond the line of trees. Some wore armor; others wore robes, and most carried weapons of some kind- swords, axes staves, lances. It was apparent some sort of battle had broken out here not long before. Which side had been victorious the fox could not determine- men and women from both sides lay side by side in widening pools of crimson, and whatever their differences had been in life, they were now all equal in death.

The fox stepped through the maze of collapsed bodies, wading through the blood soaked grass. It was confused – it had never seen humans fight before. Foxes did not know war. They quarreled over territory, or mates, but never did they kill each other _en masse. _

The fox's finely honed senses spotted a blue glow in the distance, standing out like a beacon amongst so much red. The fox's instincts told it to flee, but in some way it did not understand, it seemed to be drawing the fox in. Giving in to this calling, it slowly approached the glow.

As it got near, it saw that it was another human. This one however, was still alive. He was leaning against the trunk of a tree, staff on the ground at his side, and he was dressed in long, elegant robes. The blue glow the fox had seen emanated from a ring of translucent, flowing energy that encircled him – a shield of some sort.

The fox silently moved closer until it was a few feet from him. He did not see it, as his eyes were closed. The fox noticed that he was clutching his side with one hand. He was wounded badly, perhaps mortally so. Blood seeped from between his fingers, dripping to the ground. The man groaned in pain, and opened his eyes.

If he was surprised to see a white, nine-tailed fox sitting amongst the eviscerated bodies of the dead, watching his every move, he did not show it. Rather, a ghost of a smile came to his lips as his magical shield faded away to nothingness. He met the fox's gaze and something deep inside of the fox told it that this was exactly where it was meant to be.

The human closed his eyes once more, and laid his head against the great tree for the final time. As the fox watched, he went limp, his life leaving his body forever. As he died, something struck the fox. It felt as if a heavy object had slammed into its chest, but nothing could be seen. A few moments passed in stunned silence, and then the fox felt a tingling sensation where its heart would be. It slowly spread through its body, to the tips of its tails and paws. The tingling quickly escalated to a painful burning sensation, and the fox knew fear. It tried to flee, but it was paralyzed, unable to move. It was pierced again and again my white-hot stakes of pain across its body, adding to the already present cacophony of pain, as if it were being struck repeatedly by an invisible dagger. The pain continued to intensify, unseen flames crawling across its body, and if the fox could have screamed, it would have.

Minutes that seemed like hours passed, and the fox began to glow a bright white, softly at first, but just like the burning sensation, it too began to intensify until the fox was blinded by the very light it was radiating. The burning increased further until the fox could take it no longer, but miraculously, mercifully, it ceased all at once without the slightest warning.

In its place came an overwhelming rush of…something. Something the fox could not explain. It was ecstasy, intoxicating.

It was life.

It filled the fox's mind until it could think of nothing else, could conceive of nothing else, then that too, faded away, leaving her distraught, angry, hungry for more. The light dimmed, and receded. The fox looked around as the last of that feeling left her.

The man with the staff was nowhere to be seen, alive or otherwise, seemingly vanished from his resting place at the base of the tree.

The fox was puzzled. The ground seemed…farther away.

She flicked her tails about, and looked down, catching sight of her shadow. To her eternal shock and utter delight, her silhouette was not that of a fox – it was long and lithe, the body of the humans who lay at her feet.

She was ecstatic. She looked at her hands; the white- peach colored skin of the humans in place of fur, the long, elegant hands and slender fingers in place of paws. She looked down at her two long legs, and dug her toes into the cool, soft earth near the tree. She laughed.

She flung her arms wide and let the last few rays of the setting sun wash over her, feeling the heat, and truly enjoying it, for the first time.

Later, as the sun began to sink below the horizon, she took her first few, shaky steps on two legs. After several failed attempts that ended in her falling heavily to the ground, she finally seemed to get the hang of it. She paced back and forth in front of the tree, slowly building speed and confidence. She was clever – she mastered it quickly.

She wanted to see more of her new, human body. She wanted to know what she looked like. So she padded past the tree and back into the forest, searching for something that she might catch her reflection in. She laughed as cold water droplets fell from the still- wet trees onto her skin.

After walking for a time, she found what she was looking for. She knelt next to a small pond created by tiny streams of water spilling down a sheer rock face. She gazed into the gently rippling water, and looked at her reflection. An onlooker might have called her beautiful, though she herself would not. Foxes had no concept of beauty.

She had long, straight black hair that hung to the middle of her back and lay strewn across her breasts. She looked into her own almond-shaped eyes and the ghostly amber colored irises within, a smile coming to her lips.

She raised a hand to her cheek and brushed the three light marks on each one that marked where her whiskers had been. Her smile faded to a slight frown.

She put a hand on top of her head. She still had the ears of a fox- not white as they had been, but now as black as her hair. She twitched her tails.

The transformation was not yet complete.

She shivered as a cool breeze swept across her naked body. The sun was going down, and it was getting cold. She crossed her arms across her chest and wrapped her tails around herself to keep warm. She rose slowly, and headed back to the field where the humans lay.

In the twilight, she searched for some suitable clothing. She knew little of human customs, but she did know that it would not be acceptable to walk into town unclothed. She scanned the fallen warriors.

There – a female soldier. Her armor was relatively undamaged – the woman's throat had been slit. With the speed and agility of a fox in a human's form, she rolled the body over and stripped the soldier of her armor. She did not feel any remorse in this act- the woman obviously did not need it now. She would put it to much better use. It was simple, yet functional: cloth underclothes, boots, a belt, and a metal breastplate. There was still some blood on it, but hopefully it would go unnoticed until it could be washed off.

She finished dressing as the twilight gave way to night. It was dark, and while her eyesight was not as good as it had been as a fox, she found that she was still able to see fairly well. She placed a hand atop her head, and frowned. It would not do to have the townspeople running in fear at the sight of her fox ears and tails. She crouched down and scooped up and abandoned metal helm. It was surprisingly ornate. It was cast from the same silver metal as her breastplate, and had a metal piece to cover the bridge of the nose, as well as a flip down visor to cover the eyes.

She placed it on her head and flipped down the visor to hide her unnaturally colored irises. It was uncomfortable as her ears were made to lie flat against her head, but she supposed she would have to make do. As an afterthought, she removed the soldier's short sword and scabbard and secured it about her own waist.

She swished her tails. They could not be hidden so easily. She furrowed her brow, and eventually settled for bunching them together and draping them over a shoulder. With any luck she would appear to be wearing a scarf of some sort. It would not hold up to close inspection, but then she did not expect to linger in one place for too long. Her whisker marks would still be visible, but hopefully they would not seem too out of place.

She straightened and placed her hands on her hips, scanning the horizon for an indicator of civilization. Almost instantly, her eyes locked onto a dim orange glow and trails of smoke, gray against a midnight blue in the distance – the telltale signs of a town. She smiled, hardly able to wait to make herself a part of human culture, as was her greatest wish.

Wind pulled at her hair as she began walking.


	2. Dusk

The moon was absent from the night sky. The city glowed like a gem in spite of, and perhaps because of the complete blackness that surrounded it.

As the fox – turned - human wandered into town, she remarked with pleasant surprise that many humans were still going about their business in the soft glow of dozens of torches and hanging lanterns, despite the fact that the sun and set several hours prior. And, as she had hoped, no one paid her any heed.

She strolled casually through the streets, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the town. She enjoyed walking in her new human form. True, she was not as fast or as agile as she had been, but there was certain solidity and concrete heaviness about this form that she had never known, and that she enjoyed.

After a time, she came to a large fountain in the center of the town. It sprayed water high into the air that came crashing down in a large stone pool, bisected by a bridge. She walked out on it, a hand lightly brushing the railing as she walked.

Foxes really had no emotions. Yet, as she gazed out at the fountain, softly lit by firelight, she felt what she could only be described as happiness.

And yet, the sudden metamorphosis was incomplete. Her vulpine ears and tails were testament to that. She pondered how she might finish it, but how could she, when she did not know what sparked it in the first place?

She sighed. She supposed that she had what she had always desired, and should not ask for more, and while she was happy, she could not help but feel that she was incomplete.

She remembered the robed man. Could there be others like him? Others that might explain what had happened to her?

Her stomach rumbled, breaking her out of her thoughts. She realized that she hadn't eaten for hours. She looked around. What did humans do for food?

She spun on a heel and started walking down the streets again, remembering various stalls that humans had stood behind, with various goods arranged on top of them. She approached one. The owner of the stall was preoccupied with something, his back turned. Arranged in front of the stall were large crates of apples. She picked one up and examined it closely before turning around and walking away.

"Hey!" someone called from behind her. She spun. "You have to pay for that!" It was the stall owner. He was stepping out from behind it, looking angry. The fox girl backed away slowly, trying to understand what he was telling her.

"Did you hear me?" He thundered. "Pay or give it back!"

The girl continued to walk backwards until her heel caught on an empty crate in the street. She tripped and fell on her backside, hard. The apple fell to the ground, and her helmet was knocked off. It rolled out into the street with a metallic ring.

She froze. The man simply stared at her, taking in her ears and eyes. Then it was his turn to back away, shock and fear blatant on his face.

"What are you?" He whispered.

The girl stood and dusted herself off. She looked up to see dozens of shocked people, stock still, studying her intently. She walked towards them, but they backed away from her, recoiling in fear. She did not understand. She was like them now, human. Yet they did not accept her.

The stall owner yanked a torch off the wall and waved it in her face.

"Go!" He cried. "Get out of here, monster!"

Monster? She was no monster, just a-

"I said get out!" He said, thrusting the torch at her again.

The girl looked out at the people for help, silently begging them to understand. Her look was only met with more fear. It was clear that this town that had seemed so friendly a few short hours before now no longer welcomed her.

She turned on a heel and stalked away. There was nothing for her here.


	3. Chase

The fox girl studied the worn surface of the inn table, trying to both enjoy her drink and avoid prying eyes. Coincidentally, the drink was also the first thing in long time that she had actually paid for. Although, she didn't think it really counted if the money with which it was purchased was itself stolen. Not that she minded. Stealing was her only method of survival, for now. At first, she had just stolen food from shops in the villages she had wandered through. But that had eventually proved too conspicuous. On more than one occasion, she had been forcibly thrown out of town. But that had little consequence in the grand scheme of things.

To alleviate the problem, she had taken to walking through the crowded streets and cutting the coinpurses off the belts of the passing people. She had gotten quite good at it. In fact, she had only been caught once. Despite escaping with the money, it was a hit to her pride, and she had made sure it hadn't happened since.

Such had been her life the past few weeks; drifting from town to town, stealing and scavenging. No one would accept her. The humans all feared her, fleeing from her as if she were some unholy creature. She sighed and resumed listening to various conversations at the tables in the room. One in particular caught her attention.

Two men were sitting a few tables over. Their heads were completely shaven and covered in tattoos, and both were heavily armed, and were drawing nervous looks from the bartender. They were talking in low voices so they would not be overheard, but the girl picked up on their conversation with her sharp hearing easily.

"They say it looks like a woman," One of the men was saying. "A beautiful woman. But if you get too close, she'll steal your soul."

The girl's ears perked up. She had taught herself to understand the language of humans, more or less, though she still had some trouble speaking it.  
"Don't tell me you're drunk already."

"Not yet, but listen, there's a bounty on it. 300 gold pieces, alive _or _dead. Our specialty." He snickered.

His partner gave a low whistle. "A lot of cash. But I'm not going to waste my time chasing fairy tales."

"This ain't a fairy tale!" the first man snapped, slamming the table. "It's real, and word is, it was sighted not too long ago in a village a little ways north of here."

"If it looks like any other woman, how will we know it when we see it?"

"That's the easy part. A contact of mine said it had ears on top of its head like an animal."

The girl tensed. Damn her luck. They were talking about _her. _She slowly rose to leave.

"What, like a dog?" the other man asked skeptically.

"Yeah, I guess," His friend responded. "But that's not even the weirdest part. It turned up about a week later in another town, and get this; they said it had _tails _too_."_

The girl kept her head down and moved for the door.

"Like, more than one?"

"That's what they said. Maybe when we catch it I'll make a fur coat." He said with a grin. The comment had them roaring with laughter. They were obviously drunk, despite what the first man had said.

The girl continued edging over to the door. She had to get out before the two men noticed that she was not entirely what she seemed. Her fingertips brushed the doorknob when a shout rang out.

"Hey!" One of the tattooed men shouted. "Yeah, you at the door! Wait."

The girl swore inwardly and turned around slowly. The man was clumsily rising from his chair and moving over towards her.

"Did you hear? There's monsters about," He said, cackling like a hyena. "Better come back to my place….so I can protect you."

The girl flashed a nervous smile and shook her head. It was the wrong move.

"No?" the man said, stepping uncomfortably close to her. "Don't you know it's impolite to turn down such a generous offer?" He leaned in close to the girl's face and smiled menacingly. She caught a glimpse of broken, yellow teeth, and the scent of his breath was worse than anything she had smelled in either of her lives. She gave her most winning smile and shook her head again. The man cocked his head. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? Let me loosen it up for you." He hissed as he procured a knife from a hip sheath and pressed the point to her neck. She let out a choked cry and cast a glance at the man's partner. He was laughing and slapping his thigh, clearly enjoying the spectacle. The bartender was nowhere to be found, so no help there. She was on her own.

With a shout, she shoved the man away, backing up and bumping into the door as she did so. It swung open, and she fell down the short flight of stairs that led up to the door from the outside, finally landing hard on her back. The man reeled backwards, cursing, having been taken off balance.

The girl bolted upright and jumped to her feet, but stopped in her tracks when she heard a familiar sound. A metallic rattling sound. She looked down. Her stomach dropped as she saw helmet was rolling across the paving stones. She looked back up to see both men staring at her dumbly, frozen to the spot, finally able to see her ears.

The helmet toppled over with a ring, breaking the spell. The two men were after her in an instant.


	4. Faint Whisper

The girl cursed her own stupidity as she dashed away, tearing into one of the town's many back alleys, the men hot on her heels, swords raised. If she lived through today, she was going to get a helmet with _straps. _

Behind her, the men were calling for help between curses and commands to stop. That was bad. If there were more of them, she'd have her work cut out for her in escaping them. She cut a sharp corner, and scanned the alley for a place to hide. But it was barren, and the walls were far too high to climb. She groaned and kept running.

As a fox, she was used to physical exertion, but she was tiring, her breathing becoming ragged. She wondered if she could outlast her pursuers. Casting a glance behind her, she deemed it unlikely. They were fueled by greed and blind rage, determined to see her head on a pike.

Not for the first time, she questioned whether becoming a human was the right choice. Then she reminded herself that she hadn't really had one in the first place.

As she turned another corner, she saw that the alley was coming to an end, and could see firelight from the main street beyond seeping into the darkness of the alleyway.

Her blood ran cold as five armed men blocked her path. These must be friends of the two men chasing her. Damn.

She skidded to a halt. Behind her, the men rounded the corner, trapping her.

"No where left to run," One said with a sneer between heavy breaths. "Don't try anything stupid, and we might make this relatively painless."

"L-let me go!" The girl stammered, searching for the correct words. "I have….have not done anything wrong!" Not entirely true, but she wasn't going to bring up her past crimes now.

"As if I give one whit about what you've done!" He jeered. "I'm taking your head and getting that bounty, one way or another, soul stealer."

She had just about had it with this murderous human. She snorted and crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. It was an expression of dubiousness she had seen many humans adopt.

"You are a fool," She spoke clearly and with a fluency she had not known she possessed. "I do not steal souls. And I would not want a soul from one so dim-witted, anyway."

She could practically see the veins bursting in the man's face. His partner stifled a laugh with his hand. The first man turned on him in fury.

"Shut the hell up! Just kill her!"

Snapped out of his laughing fit, the guard moved towards the girl, sword drawn. Their friends did the same.

The girl uncrossed her arms and drew her own sword. She knew in her heart that she would never be able to take on seven physically fit men, but she'd be damned if she didn't try and make this as difficult as possible for them. Then, like a light in a dark cave, an idea sprung up in her mind. It was incredibly dangerous, and she didn't know if it would work, but what choice did she have?

She faced the pair of attackers. He was livid, bloodlust clear in his eyes. The girl smirked. This would be fun.

Without warning, she charged at him. Fury changed to shock at her unexpected action. She leapt, as high as she was able, and landed squarely on his shoulders. Using him as a springboard, she vaulted again, this time towards the high wall of the alley. With a painful slap, her hands met the top of wall. She quickly hoisted herself up.

Crouched atop the wall, she looked back down at the men. The one she had used to get atop the wall had fallen to the ground, and was looking at her with a renewed hatred. She waved at him.

She narrowly avoided the stone he threw at her by sharply tilting her head.

"You should really watch that temper," She scolded him.

Below her, one of the men was crouching down, presumably to give the others a boost. Time to go.

She hopped down off the wall. It was a long drop, and she rolled as she hit the ground, lessening the impact. She found herself in yet another alley, but this one had many branching paths. She thanked her good fortune and picked one at random, sprinting along it.

After a time, she heard someone coming up behind her. She cursed and put on more speed. Before long though, she came to a dead end.

She stared in stunned silence. She was hemmed in by the walls of houses. There were windows above her, but they were too high to reach, even if she jumped off another of the men again. There were doors on either side of her, but they were locked, and though she banged on both several times, no one answered.

She heard footsteps behind her, and she whirled. To her disbelief, it was the exact same man she had vaulted off of, and to her dismay, he didn't seem to be any less angry.

"I've got you now," He hissed. "There'll be no escaping this time."

She calmly drew her blade. "I don't want to fight you," she said.

"Then don't. Makes my job easier," He pointed his blade at her throat. "And when I have your head, I'll be rich."

"You're insane," She said. "For the last time, I am not a danger to anybody."

"Save it," He said maliciously. "Just die!"

He charged, sword raised. The girl had been anticipating it. She brought her own sword up, and the man's downward blow sparked off the flat. She used his weight to shove him to one side, and sidestepped towards the other. She watched him sail past.

He stumbled and recovered. He came at her again, rage making his blows wild and unpredictable. The girl did not know how to use a sword. Her opponent was clearly the better fencer. But his sword was larger and heavier, and while his fury made his blows powerful, it also made them inaccurate, and the girl was able to consistently parry them.

The man swung downwards in a powerful overhand strike, and the girl nimbly sidestepped it. The man was slow to recover, and the girl spotted her chance to switch onto the offensive. She lashed out at his abdomen with a powerful kick, causing him to stumble backwards. She began raining blows on him, metal ringing filling her ears as he clumsily blocked each one. But she could see that his defenses were weakening. Fire raged in her arms as she continued the assault, until her blade finally bit flesh. Her sword lashed up his forearm, causing him to cry out in pain. He clutched it with his other arm, leaving himself open.

She drove the blade between his ribs.

She leaned into it, forcing the weapon in up to its hilt. Her face was inches from his. An expression of shock and pain plastered his face.

"Those who let greed rule their hearts know only despair," She said in a near-whisper. "Now be still."

She felt no remorse. True, she would rather not have fought, but guilt did not factor into a fox's psychology. She tugged her blade free and the man fell limp to the stone path. She sneered triumphantly over the body.

Then something struck her.

Like a punch in the gut, it left her winded. But as quickly as it came, it receded, dancing out of her reach. The fox girl was puzzled. What was this force that taunted her so?

Then, something deep inside her gave her the answer, echoing in her mind. It was magic.

She reached out for it, both mentally and physically, and seemed to be only to barely touch it in a way she did not understand. She strained herself, projecting her will forward, and finally took hold of it. It raced along her skin, rebounding against the inside of her skull, rejuvenating and mesmerizing her.

There was no pain this time. Only the mysterious, euphoric feeling that had invaded her mind when she had first been transformed into human. For a few moments she reveled in her own joy. And then, as before, it washed away like the sea at low tide, without the slightest indication. With some disappointment, she noted that the feeling had lasted significantly shorter this time.

She opened her eyes as a light rain began falling from the black sky above.

So this was the secret, then. The key to her humanity. She would have to take it by force. She looked down at the man, and with mild surprise she noticed that unlike the man who had granted her this human form, he had not vanished. Rather, he appeared almost skeleton – like, desiccated, as if he had been starved for weeks. She smiled at the irony of the situation. Perhaps there had been some truth in his accusations after all. However, she hadn't exactly taken his soul, just the energy of his body that would decay before long anyway.

She briefly pondered how she knew that. And for that matter, why she knew the mysterious force had been magic and that she should reach for it.

She shrugged to no one in particular. That didn't matter now. What _did _matter was that she now had a way of attaining her dream of becoming human.

Her smile broadened into a grin, spinning on a heel and leaving the body to lie in the rain.

Coldly.

Mercilessly.

After all, such things as mercy had no place in a fox's heart.


	5. Hunter

The nameless girl wiped her dagger clean on her latest victim's clothing. His stained working clothes betrayed his profession as a laborer of some sort. But the girl cared not who he was or what he did, only what she could gain from him.

Having harvested his essence, she rooted through the many pockets on his clothing, but came up with only a few silver coins. She frowned. She had hoped for more. Oh well. The essence, as she had taken to calling it, had been the real prize anyway. Essence, that exhilarating, mysterious force that she looked forward to every time she took a life, the essence that would eventually make her human, _that _was always the ultimate goal. But the joyous feeling of the essence filling her mind was severely lessened of late. It was because, every time she killed, she felt a faint twinge of regret. It was….irritating. She had never felt it as a fox, and she could swear that with every kill the feeling grew stronger. She shrugged it off. This silly feeling would not impede her march towards true humanity.

She looked back down at her quarry. This had to have been her easiest kill yet. It had been almost comically simple to lure this fool to his death in this secluded garden, overhung with drooping branches. She had first noticed that many male humans paid special attention to her not long after her episode with the men at the inn, several towns away. Nearly every night since, she had used her gift of beauty to gain the attention of a man or two and lured him to a secluded area where he could be dispatched quickly and efficiently.

Eager to see if she had made any visible progress on her…condition, she padded over to a nearby pool of water that was fed by a trickling waterfall. She frowned with frustration as she saw that her ears were still firmly attached to the top of her head, poking unchanged out of her glossy black hair. Progress appeared to be painfully slow. She groaned. She knew that if she were patient, she would complete the transformation and become truly human, but it was excruciating to put in so much work and see so little in the way of results.

She sighed at last. Nothing for it now but to press on.

She rose to resume her search for prey.

She continued walking for a long time under the starry sky, but passed no one. Most in the village were in safely in their homes for the night. So it was with a fair amount of surprise that she came across a lone man emerging from an alley with a sack slung over his shoulder

She cracked a wry grin. A thief.

Upon seeing her, the slight man tensed and drew a dagger, instantly ready for trouble. The girl stalked seductively over towards him, palms towards him to show that she wasn't carrying a weapon. She had long since abandoned her soldier's uniform and sword. They drew too much attention. Her new clothing that she had made herself drew attention as well, but it was of a different sort. Now she appeared much more…inviting.

"Now, now, there's no need for that," she said, pointing at the wicked looking weapon clutched in a gloved hand. As the girl moved over towards him, hips swinging exaggeratedly, he took in her seductively low cut shirt and short skirt that showed off long legs. If he even noticed her ears and tails, he didn't show it. She flashed a charming smile and grabbed the folds of his cloak, drawing herself close to him. The color of the scarf he wore was quite fetching, she noticed. A deep crimson. Perhaps she would take it off him when she was done with him. "I'm hardly a threat to you."

He seemed to relax a bit, but didn't sheath his dagger. He swallowed hard before speaking. "I'm sorry, my lady, but I have to go." He said, with unexpected formality.

The girl pouted. "Oh, that's too bad. What's so important that it can't wait a minute or two?"

The thief shifted the sack on his shoulder uncomfortably. "My, ah, work. I'm sorry, but I can't stay."

She drew her face extremely close to his, and stared into his eyes. She had him on the hook, now she just needed to reel him in. "Won't you stay here with me?" She whispered.

He nodded enthusiastically. "Maybe just a few minutes."

She pulled him deeper into the alley. He followed without resistance, seemingly entranced by the girl's beauty.

She leaned in close to him again, as if making to kiss him. He leaned forward eagerly, eyes shut. So he did not notice one of the girl's hands slipping around the hilt of the dagger, and he did not notice as she gently pulled it from his grip.

An instant before their lips met, she plunged the point of his own blade into his side.

About fifteen minutes later, the fox girl was shaking her head to clear it of that irritating pang of regret. She sighed in disbelief and in frustration. This man was thief! Had she not killed him, he would have killed her. He had even had his weapon at the ready!

So why did she feel like this was wrong?

She tried to put it out of her mind. But she couldn't shake the feeling that it was even stronger this time than it had been after she had killed her previous victim a few short hours ago, and quite a bit stronger than it had been on her first kill.

Eager to give herself a new task to occupy her mind with, she bent down over the frail, bone thin body and began searching his clothing. There wasn't much of anything useful- and anything with any value would be in the sack he had been carrying. She'd get to that in a minute. Her eyes drifted to the hilt of the dagger, still protruding from between the man's ribs. With a grunt of exertion, the girl tugged the weapon free. She looked over the blade's gleaming surface and ornate detailing with a smile.

"Nice knife," She said down to the dead thief. "I think I'll hang onto it."

She quickly unbuckled the sheath and strapped it onto her own waist, quite satisfied with the find. She glanced over at the bag the thief had been carrying. As she made for it, a male voice rang out from the far end of the alley, stopping in her tracks.

"Brant?" It called nervously. "Brant, you over here?"

The girl cursed herself. She shouldn't have lingered as long as she had, and she should have expected that the thief was not working alone. She quickly dove behind a trash bin and peered over the top at the source of the voice. She saw him round a corner into the alley.

At this distance and light level, the thief's companion could not have hoped to see her, but with her excellent vision she saw him quite clearly. His clothing was tattered much like his friend's, and he wore a similar blood colored scarf under his cloak, no doubt signaling his affiliation to a gang of some sort.

This was bad. If these two were in a gang, then more could show up at any time. She picked up a small stone near her feet, and hurled it across the alley so it landed behind the man with a dull crack. He whirled on the noise, and the girl took the opportunity to dash from her hiding place to the alley's exit.

So intent was she on escaping, she didn't notice two more cloaked men entering the alley into she plowed into them.

"Well well," One of them said, catching her about her arm. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"  
She struggled to free herself, but in vain. The man's grip was iron.

"Not so fast," He said menacingly. "I don't think I'm done with you yet."

The thief she had distracted with the stone jogged up, short of breath. She saw now that he was quite large, much larger than any of the others she had seen thus far. Odd, given his occupation. "Don't let her go! She killed Brant!"

"What, the kid?" The man holding the girl asked, incredulous. "He's dead? You sure?"

"He's laying face down in a pool of his own blood, you idiot! Of course I'm sure!"

The girl's captor let the insult slide. "My my, not quite the little painted lady we appear to be, are we? " He said with a sneer. "He was such a nice kid. So polite. He didn't deserve that, did he?" He grabbed her other arm and pulled her close, tightening his grip and causing her to cry out. She turned her head away to avoid his gaze. "Hey, are these…cat ears?" He asked his companions confusedly, examining her head.

"Yeah, and look at that scarf of hers. It's _attached_, like a tail."

"What is she?" another thief inquired."

"Hell if I care," said the man holding her, looking her up and down. "_Most _of her looks human, and that's enough for me." He gave a sinister laugh.

"What should we do with her?" one of the other men asked with a snicker.

"Oh, I had something in mind," The man holding the fox girl said in a low voice, uncomfortably close to her ear. "But it involves a little less…clothing."

He let go of her arm to reach down for his knife. The girl wasted no time. She reached back with her now free hand and punched him in the gut. As he doubled over, she delivered a powerful uppercut to his chin before he or any of his companions could react, tugging her arm free and running as she did so. Behind her she heard the thief, stunned but still standing, growl, "This one has some fight in her. Go on, get her!"

She quickly rounded a corner, finding herself on a cluttered street. During the day it would have been a blur of activity, dozens of merchants selling their wares. But now, it was silent, and goods stacked in barrels and crates lined the empty street.

She glanced behind her. To her horror, the three thieves were already gaining on her. They were faster than even her, being used to escaping town guards, unlike the mercenaries she had run from on a night much like this many weeks earlier. She groaned at the similarity of her current situation. If she was going to make a habit of running from angry men, she'd have to be quicker.

She chanced another backwards look. One of the men, smaller and faster than the other two, managed to get close enough to reach for the long braid that was trailing behind her as she ran. With a gasp, she yanked it closer to her and out of his grasp. This was useless. They'd catch her eventually, she knew. She would have to take the fight to them at the earliest opportunity, but how? She could never fight three men armed with swords with only the dagger. She'd have to split them up, somehow.

Then, an idea struck her. As she passed a stack of barrels that towered over her, she kicked at it with all her might, toppling it and sending the barrels crashing down the street. The thief behind her nimbly leapt over them, but his two companions were not so fortunate. The barrels crashed into a merchant's stall, toppling the narrow support poles and sending the entire tent that covered it crashing down and barring their way.

"Get her!" One of them shouted from behind the wreckage. "We'll go around!"

The thief on her side of the barrier nodded and smiled viciously at the girl, drawing a wicked looking sword. She saw that under the cloak of his hood, he had a long jagged scar running down his face, across his brow, skipping over his eye and continuing along the cheek. She recognized him as one of the thieves she had run into on when she had tried to flee the alley, but it was not the one who had grabbed her. She noticed that she hadn't heard him speak once, this entire time. His eyes were cold and merciless, and she knew she could not talk her way out of this fight. She calmly drew her new dagger.

No words were exchanged. Instead, the thief began warily circling her, much like a predator might circle its wounded prey, searching for an opening in which to strike. The girl held her dagger in front of her in a reverse grip, and rotated to keep the deadly man well in front of her. They stared each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move. Then, like lightning, the thief rushed forward and lunged towards her, sword pointed forward to pierce her chest. She spun, causing the wicked point of the blade to miss all of her vital organs, but causing it to instead slice through the thin red fabric of her sleeve and deep into the flesh beneath. She cried out in pain, and found that she could only barely use the wounded arm. Thankfully, it was her left arm, and would not greatly impair her fighting ability.

She bared her teeth in an almost animalistic fashion and faced her attacker again. He slashed at her, forcing her to sidestep it or lose an arm. He came at her again and again, trying to find a gap in her defense. It was as if the first attack had broken some sort of spell, for his blows came without cease, eschewing his tentative circling in favor of an unrelenting assault. But her reflexes were greater than that of any other girl, and the thief was both surprised and angered that she was able to dodge or parry every one of his attacks with her dagger. However, these strikes were not the heavy, clumsy blows of the mercenary she had fought not long before; they were measured, precise, and quick. If she had been fighting a bear the first time, this was more like fighting a wolf. Further, his sword had much more range than her dagger, and his light blade meant it was always moving, never letting her get in close, and he seemed to never tire. She knew she'd have to get him to make a mistake.

"Come on," She taunted as leapt back to avoid a horizontal rake. "You can't kill me if you can't hit me!"

The man said nothing in reply, but her tactic was having the desired effect. His eyes clouded with rage and his blows came harder as he tried to silence her arrogant words. But it was to no avail. He raised his arms and swung downwards in a powerful strike, but the girl simply raised her dagger and shoved the blade aside as it came thundering down, creating a shower of blue sparks as their steel met.

"Don't talk much, do you?" She called coyly as she sidestepped a vicious backhand blow. He was taken off balance. There- that was her chance! "What's the matter? Fox got your tongue?" She jeered as she spun and kicked low, sweeping his legs out from under him. On his back, winded, he had no time to react as she leapt on top of him, straddling him.

He found his voice at the last. "You bitch," he spat, an instant before the girl plunged the dagger into his chest.

She hurriedly yanked his essence from his writhing body. Strands of the ghostly green energy trailed after her as she sprinted away, lighter than air.


	6. A Fox's Gambit

She didn't have to kill them. They had not yet shown up in this crowded street, and she knew she had plenty of time to climb to the roofs of these buildings and make her escape.

But these men had made a fool of her, made her helpless, planned to take advantage of her.

She would see them suffer for their mistake; this, she vowed.

She waited silently, motionless, in the hay bale. It had been left not far from where the dead thief lay now, and she was sure that his companions would find a way around her little roadblock to lend a hand to their comrade, although they would arrive to find their efforts had been in vain.

She shifted her weight impatiently. If only they would show up already!

After what seemed like hours but could only be minutes, she finally heard the sound of running feet, nearing her position. The hay bale was situated atop a horse drawn cart, sans the horse, so she had to peek over the edge of the cart's wall to see what was happening. She saw the two thieves enter the alleyway. They were dressed nearly identically to each other, and it would have been impossible to tell them apart, if one was not considerably bulkier than the other. It was the man she had distracted with the stone. She would have to take him out of the fight first. She was in luck-he was on the lead thief's right side, so he would pass by the cart on their way.

Before long, they sighted the body, lying in a pool of gore.

"She got him, too?" The bigger thief asked, breathless. "Who the hell is she?"

"Not what she seems, that's for sure," the smaller man replied. "And probably worth a lot of money to the right buyer."

"We've gotta go help him!" The hulking thief exclaimed, starting towards the body. His friend stopped him by placing the flat of his sword against his chest.

"No," He said. "It could be a trap. She could be waiting for us."

"But where'd she go?" The big one inquired. "There's no other way off this street!"

"We would have passed her," His companion agreed. "She must be hiding. Find her, but don't kill her. I got plans for her."

The girl wrinkled her nose in disgust. The world would be better without men like these. Her more animalistic instincts took over as she drew her dagger and waited, muscles tensed and ready to strike.

They spread out, scanning the maze of junk piled up against the stone walls of the buildings that lined the street, eyes peeled for any movement. The big one was steadily moving closer to her position. She held her breath so it would not move the hay and give her away.

He drew closer and closer until he was right on top of the cart, and she could wait no longer. He turned around to say something to the other man, but he never got the words out. With only the rustling of hay to mark her attack, she exploded out of the pile and wrapped her hands around his neck. She yanked back so that he was taken off balance, bending backwards over the wall of the cart. She raised her dagger and slammed it home, right at the base of the neck. He gave a slight choking cry, then was still. She hauled him into the hay bale before herself leaping silently to the ground.

She brandished her dagger and stepped towards the final thief.

"You're good," he said without turning around. "The hay bale? Genius. I barely even heard you deal with that lumbering oaf. So underhanded! So cowardly!"

"Rich talk, coming from a thief."

At this, the man finally turned to face her, smiling coldly. "Ah, I will not deny what I am! I am the world's greatest coward, but a coward that lives to fight, and steal, another day!"

"We'll see about that."

"Oh, was that a threat? I think I'm starting to like you! If I didn't have to kill you, I'd try recruiting you."

"As if I'd join your little gang. I have better things to be doing."

"Like killing innocent children in the street?'

"He wasn't innocent. You know that as well as I do. I know what he was carrying in that bag of his."

"Why'd you do it, anyway? Pretty little thing like you?"

"I have my reasons."

"Ah, playing hard to get, are we?" He pointed his blade at the girl. "I guess I'll just have to pull it out of you. I have a few deaths to avenge, after all."  
He wasted no time. He stepped forward and slashed at the girl's face. She ducked it and stepped forward, lunging with the dagger, but her foe nimbly twisted his body so that it sailed harmlessly past. He came at her again, swinging the blade with fervor. But this time, it was as if he were toying with her, not even trying for a kill. Taunts would not work here.

She focused on parrying and dodging her attacks, and soon, the air was ablaze with blue sparks and the din of clashing metal. She realized that he was slowly driving her back towards the wall, where he would have the advantage. She grit her teeth and stood her ground as best as she was able. The man's devious fighting style was riddled with feints and false strikes, belying his twisted personality. Whenever the girl was able to get a blow in, it was countered with practiced ease; the blade turned away and a vicious counterattack was thrown at her. She was forced to back off again or lose her head.

As she was forced onto the defensive again, she began to lose hope. Up until now, she had been merely lucky. This man was obviously well trained in the sword, and she could not hope to beat him without some assistance.

But no great idea came to her, and before long, she was forced to devote her entire focus to the increasingly difficult task of deflecting her opponent's dancing blade.

In one fell swoop, the man used the point of his sword to pry the dagger from the girl's hands, sending it flying. It embedded itself into a wooden crate not far off with a dull _thunk._ With the dagger out of the way at last, he slashed upwards across his body, drawing the blade across the girl's exposed thigh, carving a long scarlet line up its length. She gasped in agony, and every step sent new bolts of pain racing up her leg. She fell to one knee.

The man approached his fallen opponent, a triumphant grin on his face. He placed a boot on the girl's chest and shoved, knocking her on her back. "That's it, huh?" he said through his sneer. "I guess you weren't anything special after all." He knelt next to the breathless girl. "What are you, anyway? Some kinda hybrid? Which was the cat, your mother or your father?" He said with a grin.

She spat in his face.

"You're gonna wish you hadn't done that, sweetheart." He said, wiping it away, and raising his sword. "To hell with you. You're more trouble than you're worth." He raised his sword to pierce her heart.

The girl closed her eyes, seemingly resigned to her fate. Then, at the back of her mind, something called to her. It wasn't a voice, exactly-it was more of an impulse, a suggestion.

She listened to it.

Projecting her will outward, she willed that mysterious force she had felt earlier to come to her. It seemed to obey her command. In an instant, she felt it bloom in her mind, and spread through all parts of her body. It was as if someone had dumped a gallon of ice water into her veins.

Her eyelids flickered open as her hands burst into flames. But it was no natural flame; they were ice-blue and did not burn her in the slightest, and they shone with an incandescent glow.

It was magic.

"What the hell?" the thief cried, recoiling.

The girl raised her arms and willed the flames forward. Like bullets from a gun, they rocketed away from her hands and slammed into the thief's chest, sending him sprawling. The girl jumped to her feet and cast a glance at the man. Blue flames licked at a large black hole in his chest and had engulfed the hood of his cloak. If he wasn't dead, he was in no shape to give chase, she judged.

She took the dagger from where it had landed and fled.


	7. Selfless

The girl's eyes flickered open. She found herself looking at wood paneling on the ceiling. Puzzled, she propped herself up on her elbows and looked around. The room was sparsely furnished, and warm afternoon light was spilling into the room between dark green curtains. She looked down. Someone had changed her clothes and lain her on this couch, and had covered her with a blanket as well. She groaned and lay back down. Her head was pounding.

How had she gotten here? She remembered fighting the three thieves in the alley. She had defeated one, then ambushed the other two…

Then she remembered. The magic! She had used magic to defeat the last man, and it had likely saved her life. With a smile she recalled the awesome sense of power she had felt just wielding it, but she also remembered it being extremely exhausting. Then with a start, she remembered the wound she had sustained during the fight. She threw off the blanket and lifted up the thigh length nightgown to look at her leg. To her surprise, it was neatly bound with clean white bandages.

She was puzzled. All she remembered after the fight was running through the deserted streets. She had gotten dizzy and completely exhausted all at once, and had stumbled and fallen. And after that, nothing.

She lay in silence for a few more minutes, trying to remember what had happened, when someone came into the room. It was a middle aged woman, slighter than even her, with straight shoulder length, gray-streaked hair. She was carrying a tray holding with what appeared to be a teapot and two cups.

"Ah, you're finally awake," She said. "I knew you'd pull through. The wound was serious, but you are young, and strong."

The girl bolted upright again, eyeing her warily. "Who are you? And where am I?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I? I am a simple woman, who happened to be in the right place at the right time." She nodded at the girl's wounded leg. "You're welcome, by the way." She said.

She set the tray down on a small table near the couch. "Found you lying in the street outside my house, bleeding and near death. So, I brought you in and patched you up. As for where you are, well, you're in Ionia, of course."

"Ionia? The capital?" the girl inquired.

The woman cocked an eyebrow. "Yes, the capital. We're on the fringes of the city, but it's Ionia all the same. How could you not know where you were? You must've hit your head pretty hard when you fell."

The girl's mind raced. The capital! How could she have wandered into it without knowing? Then again, it had been pretty dark when she'd arrived.

She swung her legs off the couch, and immediately winced as her headache intensified.

"Careful," the woman warned, pouring a cup of tea. "You've lost a lot of blood."

"Why help me?" The girl asked.

The woman looked up from the teapot. "It is not my way to refuse help to one who needs it. Sadly, far too many care for only themselves these days."

The girl was silent for a moment. "And you're not going to ask?"

"Ask what?"

"About the ears. And the tails. Don't tell me you hadn't noticed them."

The older woman shrugged. "I have lived a long time," She said casually. "And I have seen many strange things. You, my dear, are far from the strangest."

That was a first. She cocked her head in curiosity as she handed her a cup of the steaming drink. "Most people run screaming when they see me. That, or try to kill me."

The woman smiled wistfully. "Many fear what they do not understand. I don't see any reason to be afraid of you. So far, at least."

The girl nodded and looked back down at her bandaged thigh, and then at her arm. It had not been as serious, but it still ached dully as well. "I won't ask you how those happened," The woman said sternly. "In times like these, many find that it is better to ask fewer questions of strangers. But I know a sword wound when I see one, and I would advise you to be more careful in the future, if you value your life."

The girl nodded again, taking a sip of the tea. "It's excellent work. Thank you."

"My daughter, whose clothes you're wearing now, was quite the healer. She taught me a thing or two. I'm hardly an expert, but I managed to bandage you alright."

"Was?"

The woman smiled wistfully. "Yes, my dear Anna. She left home to help the war effort against Noxus. She was killed, a little over four years ago. Her father , my husband, died not long after."

"I'm sorry," The girl replied numbly. She didn't know exactly how to respond. For her, death was a natural part of things. If her daughter had been killed, it meant that she was simply not strong enough to survive. But she said nothing more.

The old woman sighed. "Yes, but they died bravely, for their city state, Ionia."

The girl was puzzled again. Died for Ionia? She found that to be an idiotic notion. Animals defended their territory, yes, but very few died defending it. They always moved on when they were outmatched.

The woman stood abruptly and walked over to a dusty old wardrobe that stood against the wall. She removed the girl's clothing from inside it, no longer dirty and bloodstained. On top, the ornate dagger sat gleaming.  
"Here," she said, handing them to the girl. "I washed them, and stitched the cut in the sleeve."

The girl set the neatly folded pile of clothes on her lap.

"Thank you. I made them myself, and I've become attached."

"You made these?" The woman asked, pointing to the stack of folded clothes.

"Yes. It wasn't difficult." She said with a shrug. "It was my first attempt at stitching anything actually. I'm a fast learner." And it was true. She had learned to walk on two legs in only two short hours, and mastered the language of humans in the span of a few weeks.

She smiled. "Not bad. But they could use some work. I could help you with that."

The girl, for the first time in a long time, smiled back. She liked this kind woman, and felt an uncharacteristic sense of pity for the loss of her family. But she couldn't stay. "Thank you, but I have to leave now." She set the teacup on the table and stood up, pain shooting up her leg and arm. Her head pounded ceaselessly.

The woman simply watched and tried to hide a smile as she stumbled towards the door.

"You remind me so much of my daughter," the girl heard the woman say over her shoulder. "So stubborn and so independent."

The girl groaned as she tripped and landed painfully on her wounded leg.

"You aren't going to get far on that leg," the woman called with a small laugh. "Not unless you plan to crawl your way out of town."

From her place on the floor, the girl sighed explosively.

"You're welcome to stay here, you know." The older woman invited, smile broadening. "In fact, I'm going to have to insist. As funny as it might be to watch you try and walk, I can't have you hurting yourself again."

The girl scowled as she made her way back to the couch, the woman laughing lightly.

"What can I call you?" the woman asked.

The girl hesitated. What should she say? "I…" She stammered. The woman was looking at her expectantly. This woman had gone out of her way to save the life of a stranger. She deserved the truth. "I don't have one," She said at last.

The woman had a look of mild surprise, but it passed quickly, to be replaced by another warm smile. "Then you are in a unique position," She said, intrigue shining in her eyes. "Not many get the chance to choose their own names. You have the unique opportunity to choose something that has meaning to you."

The girl considered her words, but nothing came to mind.

"You don't need to choose now," the woman said, laughing again. "You have your entire life to choose one, if you need it. When you die, your name will live after you."

"Like your daughter." The girl said before she could stop herself.

But the woman was not offended, and only regained that wistful expression that she had worn when she first mentioned her daughter.

"Yes, like my dear Anna, and Jarod, my husband."

The girl leaned back into the couch, suddenly very tired. She blinked quickly, trying to fight it. It was a losing battle. "Good names," She said with effort. "And what . . . do they call you?"

The woman smiled thinly. "I am Ahri."

Ahri, that has a ring to it, the girl thought as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a blur, but the girl would remember them fondly. As the days drew on, the woman called Ahri and the fox girl became close, and for the first time in her life, she wasn't forced to skulk around back alleys, homeless and hungry.

She talked often to the Ahri, and learned many things from her. Much to the girl's interest, the woman was able to expand her knowledge of Ionians. Once, the war came up.

"I did not know Ionia was at war," the girl had said.

Ahri had raised an eyebrow. "Really? How could you not? Those brutes have been ravaging the countryside for months."

"Why?"

"Why do you think? To steal our land of course!"

"Why would they want it?"  
Ahri had paused, thinking. "Why does any mad tyrant desire anything? Because he knows he can have it."

"Perhaps they have no other choice," The girl said, recalling the murders she had committed for the sake of obtaining humanity. "Perhaps they desperately need the land for something."

Ahri almost laughed. "They don't 'need' it for anything, except perhaps the hard-won gold of the citizens. You are smart, girl, I can tell, but naïve."

"You don't think very highly of Noxus." the girl remarked.

"I lived there for ten years." She said with a wistful smile. "And they don't change."

And then one day, Ahri showed the young girl her garden.

"It's my own little spot of beauty in this ramshackle old town," She said as the girl gazed out at the tidy rows of colorful flowers. She bent near a row of plants with bright white petals.

"Daisies," Ahri said from behind her. "I always thought they were so plain, but Anna loved them so."

The girl picked one and smelled it, as she had seen humans do sometimes. It was nice.

The fox girl picked several of the pure white flowers. "If she liked them so much, maybe we should take some to her." She said brightly.

Ahri smiled in agreement.

* * *

Ahri knelt and set a bouquet of the white daisies on her daughter's grave, right next to her father's.

The fox girl looked on, at a loss for words. She hadn't known them, and she didn't know what words would be appropriate. So instead, she left the woman and left to explore the graveyard on her own.

She walked in silence for a long time. The city-state was very old and very large, and so of course the cemetery was quite large and sprawling to match. She wandered quite a distance from Ahri when she paused to watch the clouds drift lazily across the pure blue sky. Something about this place called upon memories she'd rather forget; memories of her past victims. They flooded her mind then, accompanied by that strange feeling of regret.

She stopped walking. A thought struck her. They hadn't deserved it, had they? Surely the thieves and those mercenaries had. They had tried to kill her, right?

And what of the men she had lured away to die? Did they deserve death?

The girl shook her head. Whether they deserved to die or not was irrelevant. The ultimate goal was humanity, and nothing, no one, would stand in the way. She'd kill as many people as it took to get there. She was tired of people not accepting her because she was different. If a few humans had to die for her to realize the dream of walking down a human street without receiving looks of terror or hatred, then so be it.

A voice whispered in the back of her mind.

_You will never be human_.

_You kill and deceive. You will never walk among them._

The girl screwed her eyes shut and put her hands to her temples. It wasn't true! Once she was fully human, she wouldn't _have _to kill any more, damn it!

Why wouldn't this feeling leave her? And what the hell _was _it?

It wasn't fair! Why had that mage cursed her so? If she was still a fox, she wouldn't have to be dealing with this! And at least as a fox, she wasn't an outcast!  
She let out a frustrated sob, falling to her knees in the soft grass.

Her thoughts drifted to the woman called Ahri. She hadn't looked at her with fear or hatred. She had healed her and sheltered her, and though the girl was now able to walk, she was reluctant to leave the woman. She liked her kindness and warm demeanor. She hadn't really known her own mother, but she thought that having one must be something like this.

She also noticed for the first time that she was the first human she had spent more than ten minutes with that hadn't ended up skewered on the end of her blade. She could kill her, of course. It would be easy. Sneak up on her, end it with one blow. She'd never even see it coming. And though she knew it was _possible,_ and would bring her that much closer to her goal, she couldn't bring herself to do it. And yet, would not some of the men she had slaughtered sheltered her the same way Ahri had? She had seen the kindness and selflessness humans were capable of. It was one of the reasons she had wanted to be a part of their world in the first place.

And wasn't what she was doing now, killing innocent men, exactly contradictory to that?  
She screamed aloud in deepening frustration. It echoed through the tops of the tall trees, lightly rustling in the breeze.


	8. Dispossessed

It was late, and the Fire Festival would be starting soon. The sun was sinking low in the sky, a burning orb that tinged the world shades of orange. The fox girl stepped out of the shower, steam still rising from her body. It was beautifully tiled in tones of brown, and the girl had never seen the like.

She recalled the wonder she had felt upon seeing it for the first time.

"I'm surprised you haven't seen one before," She'd said with a laugh. "They're not all that rare, anymore. Jarod made this one. So handy when he wanted to be, that man."

The girl was amazed at the way water poured out of the small spout above her head. Before, she had bathed in the occasional stream or river, but this was something totally new.

She tied her still-wet hair back in its usual braid, which had grown longer in the months since her transformation so that now it hung around her thighs.

She dressed quickly in clothes that were far finer than she had ever hoped to own. She remembered her conversation with Ahri not long ago.

"They're well stitched, don't get me wrong," She'd said. "But they lack flair! They're so dull. The Festival of Fire is in a few weeks, and we can't have you going in these rags, dear!"

She had shrugged. "What can I do with them?"

Ahri had smiled roguishly. "I made all of Anna's clothes when she was your age, I'm sure I can spruce them up just fine."

And so she had. Ahri had taken the plain white skirt, cut it shorter, and stitched a second layer under it that came to a point at the outer sides of the thighs, and embroidered red and gold designs around the edges of both layers. The girl had told her that she was fond of the low cut red shirt, so she created an entire new one out of silk, but this one with long sleeves with gold designs that flared out at the wrist and came to points at the shoulder.

When she had presented them to the girl after days of keeping them out of her sight, she had been nearly speechless.

"I don't know what to say." She'd said.

"How about 'thank you'?" Ahri said with a grin.

"Yes, of course. But you've done so much for a complete stranger, it doesn't seem enough. How can I repay you for all you've done?"  
"It's no trouble dear. In truth, it's been nice having you around. Like I said before, you remind me so much of Anna." Her eyes shone with unshed tears.

The girl felt uncomfortable then. Nobody had ever _enjoyed_ her company, nor had she ever really felt the need for another's companionship. It was odd.

But she had smiled and nodded assent all the same.

She finished dressing, and used the mirror to heavily outline her eyes in black before leaving the bathroom. Hanging on a coat rack just outside the door was yet another gift from Ahri, one of her old cloaks. Though aged, it was still every bit as fine as her new clothes. The calf-length cape was pure white and tied at the shoulder with a red gem. She pulled the wide hood low over her face before she stepped out into the failing afternoon sun.

Ahri was in the garden, pulling at some flat, green plants. She turned when she heard the girl approach.

"Ah, those clothes suit you," She remarked. "You wear white well."

"Thank you," The girl replied with a swirl of the cape. "Are you ready to go?"

"In a minute or two, dear. Go inside and get me the basket on the kitchen table, will you?"  
"Alright." She replied with a nod.

She spun on a heel and stepped into the house and out of the heat of the afternoon. With a smile , she spotted the old woven basket, and with a spring in her step, she took it off the table and swung around to return to the garden. But she froze in her tracks when she looked through the window that looked out into the garden.

Ahri was on her knees, surrounded by black hooded figures, most carrying large, menacing crossbows. A man, apart from all the rest, was pointing a familiar looking, curved sword at her throat.

She couldn't hear what they were saying from here. As quickly as she was able without making any noise, she crept over to the still-open doorway and crouched to one side of it.

"Now I'm going to ask again, woman." The man with the sword was saying. "Where is the girl?" To the girl's shock and horror, the voice belonged to the selfsame thief she had torched and left for dead a little over two weeks ago. He was still alive! But how? She had seen him go up in flames, she was sure of it.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Attacking an old woman, alone in her house? Pah! Some man you are." Ahri said back.

The girl marveled at her courage. But maybe she shouldn't have been surprised. The woman had nothing left to lose, after all.

Except her, maybe.

She had to be careful about this. Going out there now would only get them both killed.

"Black hair. Nine fuckin' tails," The thief said, bringing the point of the sabre closer to her neck. "Ring any bells?"  
"No."

"Search the house."

A few of his cronies nodded and moved towards the house. The girl cursed and quietly moved away from the door, moments before three hooded thieves passed through it. She moved like a cat through the house, towards the back door. She froze, breath held behind a narrow column as one of them passed by the other side. She peered at him from under her hood as he surveyed the kitchen. After looking around for a few seconds, he moved around the pillar to get a look at the living room. He scanned the small table and the couch where she had been sleeping. This must have piqued his interest, because he moved over to it. The girl moved silently around the column to avoid being seen.

Heart thudding in her chest, she moved towards the back door again, and with trembling hands, managed to turn the handle. With relief, she stepped outside.

She was free. But she couldn't leave, not yet. Ahri was in danger, and despite what her instincts told her, she had no choice but to go back. But how to avoid being seen?

Her gaze turned back to the house with climbing vines and the low fence that ran up near the squat building. There was her answer.

The girl nimbly climbed up onto the fence and walked along it until she was up against the house's stone wall. She leapt high and clung to some of the vines on the side and hung there for a few seconds while her feet scrambled to find footholds.

Satisfied that the vines would take her weight, for the time being at least, she began to climb. Her way was made easier by grooves in the stone of the wall, and she found herself atop the roof in short order. She carefully picked her way across the shingled surface to the side of the house where the garden lay. She crouched at the edge and gazed downward.

Ahri was so far unharmed, but still under close supervision by the man she had burned. He wore completely new black leather armor and dull gray cloak, and at this angle, she was able to catch a glimpse of his face, and could see that he now wore a mask of some sort. Beneath the cloak, she caught a glimpse of a singed red bandanna.

Gathered around the two in a rough ring were several more thieves, dressed in ragged leather armor of various colors, and one girl that hung back and to the right of the masked thief. She was almost more imposing than he was, despite her obvious youth. She could be no older than eighteen or nineteen years, and was dressed all in flawless black leather armor. The only diversions were the silver glint off her metal shoulder guard, a dirt-stained burgundy cloak, and a mane of midnight blue hair.

The three thieves filed out of the house below, drawing the fox girl's attention away from the female thief.

"Anything?" The head thief demanded of them.

"No, nothing," The front most one replied. It looked like someone else might've been living there recently, but I couldn't be sure."

Chills ran up the girl's spine despite the sun and thick cloak. "Ah, so she _was _here. That means you lied to me, old woman." His tone was bemused, and the girl got the impression that he was smiling beneath the mask. He raised the sabre at Ahri again. "Now why would you do a thing like that?"

"If you haven't found her by now, she'll be miles away. Good luck finding her."

"Oh I will. After all, I owe for _this._" He pointed at his face, which she now saw was covered in bandages, only leaving space for two bloodshot eyes.

"You let that sweet little girl do that to you? I'd laugh if it wasn't so pathetic." Ahri was saying.  
He delivered a wicked backhand to the woman. "That 'sweet little girl' isn't what you think she is. Truth is, she played you, old woman. She's a killer. I've seen it with my own eyes.

Ahri remained silent. The girl's heart sank. The man's words rang true, and for some reason, the girl was upset by that.

Below, the female thief stalked over to the lead thief. "We're wasting too much time here. If she's gone, we'll need to move quickly to catch her."

"There's nothing left to see here," the burned thief grunted. He turned back to Ahri, adding almost casually. "Kill her."

Gripped with shock and terror, the fox girl almost fell from her position on the roof. One of the henchmen stepped forward, dagger raised.

"No!" The female thief cried, stopping the henchman in his tracks. "In broad daylight? We're running the risk of being seen as it is!"

"Don't argue with me, Jihl!" He snapped. "I'll do it myself."

The fox girl tensed, ready to jump into action.

"No!" the blue haired girl shouted, grabbing onto the man's sword arm. Above their heads, the fox girl's eyes widened in horror. There was too many of them, and those crossbows would turn her into a pincushion in seconds. She was utterly powerless to help.

"Damn it, Jihl!" He shouted as he yanked his arm. But the girl called Jihl did not release her grip. Fed up at last, he drew a pistol from a holster beneath his cloak with his free hand and leveled it at Ahri. The fox girl's eyes widened as she saw that she was too late.

A gunshot cracked the air as the bullet tore through her chest.

The fox girl let a small, choked cry slip from her lips, stopping her just short of screaming in anguish. She felt like she'd been poleaxed. This had to be a nightmare, right? There was no way that woman, who had already lived through so much could die now! The world reeled, and the bottom dropped out of her stomach. She clutched the edge of the roof until her knuckles were white to keep herself from plummeting to the garden below. Through eyes blurry with welling tears, she looked at Ahri. She thought she could see her chest rising, though faintly.

"Isaya, you fool!" The girl heard Jihl snap at the man as she shoved him away with one hand, making to leave the garden. "I'm getting out of here. If you don't want to end up at the end of a noose, I suggest you do the same."

Isaya re-holstered his still-smoking weapon. "Don't be so paranoid," He called after her. "No one cares what happens to the peasants living out here in the sticks, not even those peace loving freaks up in the Placidium."

"See you at the Festival, Isaya," She responding, holding up a single finger over her shoulder. "_Maybe._"

"One of these days, I'm going to get tired of her shit," Isaya grumbled to himself as he watched her stalk away. Then, to his men he said, "Get out of here. Leave the body."

They silently left the garden as the sun finally gave up its fight and sank below the horizon. The girl would follow them. She'd track them down and kill them, all of them, for what they'd done. But right now, there was someone who needed her.

She leapt off the roof down to the ground, cloak and tails trailing after her.

Ahri was lying in a pool of blood, thankfully still breathing, albeit shallowly. The girl's heart fell into her stomach as she saw the extent of the wound. She knelt next to Ahri and gently took the woman's head in her hands.  
"I'm sorry," She whispered.

Ahri smiled. "Don't be. It wasn't your fault."

The girl's heart lurched. It was. She had fought the thieves, made them angry. Made them search for her. "I didn't know they'd come after me…"

"Don't worry about that now, girl." She cut in softly, through shallow breaths and mouthfuls of blood.

"Don't talk, please." The girl said with a sob. "I'll get you to a healer, a doctor, _anything._ You'll be fine, I promise."

"I know a lie when I hear one."

"You can't die, not after all you've done! I-I…"

"You made a woman who had nothing left happy again, happy for the first time in many years. You've done far more for me than I for you,"

Tears dripped to the blood stained grass below the girl. "They'll pay for this, I swear it."

"Don't try to avenge me, I beg you. I couldn't bear it if you were hurt. Please, leave here, start a life of your own. Perhaps one that ends a little happier than mine did." She coughed up blood.

The girl couldn't speak; sadness gripped her heart, and she had never known the like. This was the downside of emotion then. But she could never have known that anything could feel so terrible. Everything good that came into her life brought with it such pain! Happiness had again and again been taken from her. It wasn't fair.

The woman put a shaky hand at the girl's face, her thumb lightly brushing the whisker marks on her cheeks.

"Don't cry," She said. "I'm happy now."

The girl took Ahri's hand in her own as it went limp. She was gone.

The girl reached up and gently closed the woman's eyes before lifting the slight frame in her arms with a small effort.

She returned to the house and laid her on the couch where she herself had lain not long before. She covered her motionless body with a blanket. Looking down at her, it looked as if she were just sleeping and might rise at any moment.

She cast one last look behind her as she stepped through the open door, at the woman who had saved her life and sheltered her, who had given her own life for her at the last. She would not be forgotten. She would find some way to honor her and keep her memory alive. She swore it.

She turned to go.


	9. The Tale Of Reina

The full moon cast a silver glow on the City State of Ionia. The Placidium, towering over the rest of the buildings in Ionia from its position atop a raging waterfall, glowed with firelight that contrasted with the metallic sheen of the moon. It was quite a sight to behold, and on another night, the girl would have gazed upon it, taken by its beauty. But now, it may as well have been an old shack on hill.

She wove through the crowds lining the streets, hood pulled down to hide her face, and cloak wrapped around her to hide her tails. No one could recognize her if she was to succeed.

She had made her way into the city a few hours prior. She had heard Jihl say that the thieves would be at the Festival, stealing fortunes from the pockets of the Festival attendees, no doubt. She smirked inwardly at the notion of a violent street gang in Ionia, of all places. It would appear that the paradigm of a noble, peace-loving city state was not completely true. Not everyone in Ionia was content to dedicate their lives to peaceful enlightenment, it seemed.

That said, the city state was quite beautiful. Trees lined the spacious sidewalks and overhung the streets, pink blossoms rustling in the wind. Thousands of red paper lanterns hung from them, casting the streets in an orange glow that made the very air seem like it was aflame. The girl could hear the telltale whistling and dull explosions of multicolored fireworks overhead.

It would be easy to forget one's troubles in place like this, thought the girl. But she was on a mission, and she would not rest until she saw it completed.

She threaded through the din of the crowd until she came to where the focus of the festival appeared to be. It was a massive garden, and at the center rose a great tree that towered overhead, its drooping branches coming down to just above the girl's hooded head. Many smiling people were gathered around it, and were writing on small scrolls that they then hung from the tree. Curious, the girl ambled closer.

She lightly took one of the scrolls hanging above her head in the palm of her hand. It bore a single word; "fear". Intrigued, the girl looked at another. This one read "sadness".

They all bore similar words, phrases and concepts, and some even held people's names. Perplexed, the girl continued inspecting the scrolls, when she heard a stern feminine voice from behind her.

"The people of Ionia write their worries and fears upon these scrolls," It said evenly. "When they are set ablaze in the morning, what is written on the scroll will be cleansed from the mind of the writer."

The girl whirled. A woman stood there, of slight build but taller than her. Long silver-blue hair hung freely to her thighs, and a massive four pointed blade hovered near her. Behind her head floated what must have been a crown of sorts, and she wore glistening red and silver armor. The girl could sense power radiating from her like light from a candle. She continued speaking.

"Such is the purpose of the Festival of Fire. The purification of our minds and souls."

"Who are you?" The girl inquired warily.

"A simple soldier, no more. I am called Irelia."

"What do you want?"

Irelia shrugged. "To help, only. I can tell by looking at you that there is much that plagues you. Deep in your soul, you are at war with yourself."

The girl tried to hide her surprise from the strange woman. "How can you know that?"

She simply shrugged. "There are ways of knowing someone without the need for words."

"Yeah well, you know what they say," she growled from under her hood, glaring. "Curiosity killed the cat."

"I mean no disrespect," Irelia replied, blade bobbing lightly in the air beside her. "But as we are at war, I have met many men and women dealing with inner turmoil as you are now. In many cases, it helps to talk about our problems."

"Look, I'm kind of busy. So if you'll excuse me."

Irelia frowned slightly, but it passed quickly. "Very well. But before I leave, I must ask, do you know of the tale of Reina?"

"No." The girl replied impatiently.

"It tells of a woman who is plagued by a malevolent spirit for many years. It disappeared only after she faced it at last, frightened by her courage."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"It is metaphor for the cleansing of one's soul. We must all face that in ourselves that we would rather keep hidden, so that it may be cast out, thus making us stronger. You would do well to remember this tale."

The girl cocked her head. There was clearly more to this woman than she was letting on. "What makes you think I want to change myself?"

"We all have baggage we wish to rid ourselves of. Even I." She looked at the girl as if she could see through her. "One final thing before I leave." She said casually. "I see hatred burning in your heart. That is something you would do well to rid yourself of, before it consumes you. The path of anger brings naught but despair."

With that, she spun on a heel and disappeared into the crowd, floating blades bobbing after her.

The girl's temper flared. That strange woman had seen right through her as if she were as transparent as glass. Who was she that could sense that she was struggling internally with the murders she had committed, her darkest secret?

She snarled in disgust as she turned back towards the tree. She would be rid of her hatred, soon enough, after Isaya's head rolled. But for now, there actually _was _a burden she could remove from her heart once and for all.

She snatched up a blank scroll and a quill from a table nearby and hastily scrawled a single word upon it. She fastened a string to it and hung it from a branch just above her head, and stepped back to survey her work. Satisfied, she spun and wove through the crowd, out of the verdant garden to pursue her quarry elsewhere.

Behind her, the scroll swung gently from its branch in the cool night breeze. Upon it was the one thing the girl hoped to remove from her heart. The one thing that was holding her back from true humanity.

Written on the scroll in black ink was the word "mercy".


	10. Ahri, The Nine Tailed Fox

"Six hundred ninety-eight, six hundred ninety-nine…" The thief counted in monotone.

He looked up from the large pile of coins. "Come on Jihl, do you have any idea how long it'll take to count all this gold?"

"Shut up and count," Jihl snapped at the man. "I don't like it any more than you do, but orders are orders, and I wouldn't disobey this one. Isaya can be. . . irrational when he's angry."

"No kidding. You see him earlier today? I'm surprised all of Ionia wasn't after us after he wasted that old lady."

Jihl shook her head, mane of blue hair swinging about. "That man's a menace. Those little temper tantrums of his are going to cost us our lives one of these days. This guild doesn't run on murder. People start dying, they're going to ask questions. Then we'll _really _be in it."

Footsteps echoed down the cobblestone path, announcing the arrival of two more black clad figures, carrying a large crate between them. Without a word, they dropped it onto grass with a muffled thump, and retreated.

"Oh come on, more?" Jihl's companion groaned. "The biggest celebration of the year, and I'm stuck taking inventory."

"Quit complaining, or you won't get your cut," Jihl said, rubbing her temples. "I swear, do you _ever_ get tired of bitching?"

The thief mumbled something under his breath, but resumed his work.

"Seven hundred . . . Seven hundred one. . ." He resumed, separating each coin from the larger pile as he counted.

He sighed and halted the counting. Already bored again, the thief looked up from his pile of coins.

The surroundings were quite serene here. He cared little for the history of Ionia, but he did know, as most did, that the city-state's center was quite old. Centuries upon centuries of civilization had started there, and fanned out with the years. As a result, the center of the city was dotted with ruins of ancient stone buildings that stood side by side with the new ones.

He and Jihl stood in the shadow of one now, in a small alcove. This particular building however, stood alone, surrounded on all sides by rolling green fields that glowed silver in the moonlight. What it had been, the thief couldn't tell, but the crumbling facades etched into the rock were quite a sight to behold. He breathed deeply. It was nice to be out of that stuffy old hideout for a change.

He sighed explosively. This was an affront to his intelligence! Here was the most skilled thief in this little outfit, and he was stuck counting coins like a common servant!

At the risk of being told to shut up again, he decided to try and voice his complaints to Jihl again.

She never heard what he had to say, for at that moment, something heavy landed on his back.

It was a perfect kill. The girl had leapt nimbly from the top of the broken wall of the old ruin, right onto the thief's back, as she once might have pounced on a rabbit. Before he could even try to rise, she had plunged the point of her dagger into the soft flesh of his neck.

She stood and turned to face Jihl, withdrawing the knife as she did so. Tendrils of incandescent green essence snaked up her arm and into her body.

"Well well, if it isn't the nine-tailed wench," Jihl snarled. "It just so happens we've been looking for you."

"What a coincidence," the girl said, brandishing the bloodied knife. "I'm looking for someone, too. Why don't you tell me where Isaya's cowering, and I'll let you live? This time."  
"You'd actually be doing me a favor by killing that fool. But I can't let you do that just yet. No," She said shaking her head. "I think I'll take your head and show it to Isaya before I take his, too."

"Funny, I was almost hoping you'd say something like that. Mercy is highly overrated."

She flipped the dagger end over end through the air, catching it her arm outstretched, the blade leveled at the blue haired girl.

In response, she smirked and drew two thin swords from beneath her cloak.

"Come on then. You want to get to Isaya? You gotta get through me, first."

The fox girl was on her instantly. She raised the dagger and brought it down in a powerful overhand arc. The thief raised her own blades and caught the dagger between them. With a shove, she threw the girl away. She skidded backwards, sneering. Readying her dagger, she ran at the thief again. Again and again her dagger sparked off her opponent's swords, like striking a brick wall. Every angle was covered, every move anticipated. But anger and revenge burned in the girl's heart, and it lent her arm strength and speed. She was a blur of white as she lashed out again and again, sparks showering the two girls and ringing metal resonating through the air.

Despite having the advantage to two blades, the thief found herself completely unable to attack, so furious was the fox girl's assault, and before long, the thief stumbled backwards, bleeding from a long laceration up her left arm.

"You're good," She said with a grin. "Now I see how you managed to best Isaya."

"The world will be better off without people like you and him."

"Who the hell do you think you are, talking down to me like that?" She demanded. "I know what you do. You kill, just for the hell of it. We thieves don't operate like that. Except Isaya, of course. But I was planning on getting him out of the way, anyway. Now, who's _really _the bad guy in all this?"

"Shut your mouth! You have no idea what my motives are."

"It's irrelevant, honey. The point still stands that you're a cold blooded killer, and me, well, I'm a harmless robber."

"Like hell," The girl said, pointing the knife at the thief's own blades. "Harmless, yet you carry those around with you."

She laughed and twirled her swords in a circle. "Insurance. These tend to be more bark than bite, but they do come in handy when I'm pushed by bloodthirsty people like you."

The fox girl bared her teeth in anger. She had just about had it with this human and her insulting banter. "Oh I'll show you a push!" She cried, rushing forward again.

The thief simply smiled and dashed backwards. Taking her place where the two thieves she had seen bringing in the chest earlier.

"Attend to our guest here, will you boys?" She said with a coy grin "I'd tell you to leave her alive, but she's become too much trouble for that."

With that, she turned and sprinted away, echoing laugh following her retreat.

The girl cursed as she brought the dagger up again. This little distraction ratcheted her anger up a few notches. She wouldn't lose to these fools.

Without warning, the man on her right charged forward, an axe raised high over his head. The girl raised her own dagger and grunted slightly as the axe blade clanged off the flat of the dagger with a shower of sparks. Without missing a beat, the girl kicked the man in the groin, causing him to double over with a cry of agony. She drove the dagger into the base of his skull as he did.

Stepping away from the fountain of blood, she maneuvered to engage the remaining thief. A bandanna covered the lower half of his face, but the fear was evident in his eyes.

With a near-maniacal grin that bespoke hatred and bloodlust, the girl flipped the dagger through the air before catching it by the tip of the blade. The man had scant seconds to even register the action, and before he could react, the dagger was flying through the air before embedding itself in his abdomen.

He almost casually looked down to examine the dagger's hilt protruding from his solar plexus, before silently falling to his knees. The fox girl ambled over to the man and roughly yanked the dagger free before kicking him in the chest, toppling him over like a sack of bricks.

Flicking the dagger to free it of excess blood, she sprinted after Jihl, essence swirling about her in a jade cloud.

The cobblestone path wove through flat green fields, and the fox girl spotted her easily with her sharp vision. In the distance, perhaps 200 yards away, buildings loomed, backlit by colored sunbursts of fireworks. She mustered as much speed as she was able and almost seemed to fly over the paving stones. She must catch the thief before she left the plain at the city's heart and disappeared into the jungle of the city.

With a thrill she noticed that she was feeling something she hadn't felt in a long time; the thrill of the hunt. Since becoming human, she had never had the chance to chase down her quarry as she had loved doing so long ago. While fighting the girl called Jihl, she had slipped into a dark corner of in her mind, one that she had last occupied as a fox. It was a primal place of pure instinct, a place that longed to see spilt blood.

And she loved every minute.

The dot on the horizon that was Jihl steadily grew larger, and the fox girl could nearly savor the taste of victory. It was evident now that she was heading back towards the Placidium, likely hoping to hide in the throngs of people enjoying the Festival.

She would not let that happen.

The two reached the shadow of the Placidium, and now Jihl happened to look behind her. Even at the distance, the fox girl could see her eyes widen in fear.

As expected, the cloaked thief tried to cut through a milling crowd of citizens. She tore a swath through the sea of bodies, clutching her bleeding arm. She was too slow. The fox girl closed the distance between them, shouldering past men, women, and children alike.

The two emerged in a small plaza, surrounded on all sides by buildings and people that watched on in puzzlement. Desperately, the thief scanned the area for an escape.

Grinning, the fox girl slowly stepped closer, dagger in hand.

Then, the thief's voice rang out across the rooftops. "Guards!" She called shrilly. "Guards, help me, she's trying to kill me!"

Around the plaza, men in chain mail with swords and shields sprang into action, converging on the source of the panicked cries.

"There!" Jihl cried, pointing at the girl with her uninjured arm, palm dripping blood. "Stop her, I beg you!"

The girl whirled about, scanning the plaza from under her hood. Wordlessly, the town guards closed in on her from all sides in a loose circle formation, citizens murmuring amongst themselves in shocked confusion. She glanced back at Jihl.

With a mocking grin meant only for her, she turned tail and ran away once more.

The girl cursed under her breath and gritted her teeth. This was bad. Everyone had seen her chasing the girl, and she had a bloodied dagger in her hands. She couldn't talk her way out of this one.

She'd have to fight. She didn't have to kill though, that would take too much time. No, she thought, I must only wound them.

She sprinted towards a pair of guards that Jihl had been standing behind. One, closer to her than the other, raised his sword to slice at her. She was too quick. She ducked under his horizontal swipe and dragged the dagger's blade across his thigh, causing him to cry out behind her and stumble to one knee. The next guard brought up his long, rectangular shield, in effect creating a wall of sorts. The girl sprinted up the flat surface and sprung off the top, flipping over the stunned guard. She landed lightly behind the man and slashed upwards and across her body with the dagger, carving a long scarlet line up the man's unarmored shoulder. He dropped his shield in pain, and the fox girl turned and resumed her chase.

Ahead, she saw the fleeing form of Jihl. She had chosen a poor path of escape, for she was running down a long street hemmed in by high buildings, with no way to break the fox girl's line of sight on her.

As she gave chase, the girl saw the thief round a corner at the end of the street, prompting her to speed up to regain sight of her.

Around the bend, she caught sight of Jihl climbing a brick wall of about eight feet. She saw the end of her cloak floating down the other side of the wall. Another second, and she would have lost the thief for good.

Not to be outdone, the fox girl leapt onto a nearby fence and sprinted along the narrow beam before jumping onto the wall and down into the alley on the other side.

She heard the thief audibly curse as she turned around and saw her still following.

Before long, Jihl entered a large, verdant courtyard.

"Isaya!" Jihl called out at the top of her lungs. "Isaya, get out here!" At the far end of the courtyard was an old stone building. Jihl planted her back to this, arms against the stone at her sides.

"Looks like you're running out of places to run." The fox girl said menacingly as she entered the courtyard.

"Perhaps we should stop running then," A new voice called from a balcony above. "Now that we have the home field advantage."

The fox girl looked up and removed her hood. "Isaya." She greeted him calmly. "You've been looking for me?

"Day and night, baby doll; ever since our last date." He said as he gestured to his bandaged face. But It would seem you've saved me the trouble."

He snapped his fingers, and out of the shadows stepped five cloaked thieves; two on each side, and three that stepped in front of the motionless Jihl. The girl shook her head. No matter how many of these fools she put down, there was always more to take their place.

"Don't do this, Isaya." She called up to the man. "It's you I want. No one else has to die. Won't you come down and play?"  
"That's precious. I think someone's overestimated their talents a little." He said. He jumped from the balcony to land lightly on the grass in front of the group of three thieves.

"Well if that's how it's going to be . . ." The girl said quietly to herself. She readied the dagger and pounced on the thief at her left.

She struck him across the jaw with her free hand, causing his head to tilt sharply with the impact. An instant later, the girl brought her elbow back to slam into his nose, causing the head to reel backwards, exposing the neck. She swung the dagger in a wide arc that sliced into the soft flesh, severing his jugular.

He was on the ground before anyone could react.

The thief that had been on her right was the first to recover. He lunged at the girl with a long sword, but she swiftly ducked under it and got in close, driving the dagger into his side, right where his kidney would be.

Isaya was shouting something, and the remaining three thieves jolted into action, moving in front of Isaya towards her.

She briefly recalled her last fight with Isaya. She had used magic then. Could she do it now? She didn't know, but it was worth a shot.

Closing her eyes and tightening her focus, she silently called the magic that lay dormant inside her into action, in the way she had remembered doing before. Then, with a start, she felt the familiar rush of energy surging through her once again.

She willed it to take a physical shape, and when her eyes opened again, she was surrounded with three dancing balls of spectral blue flame.

With a malicious smile, she spun on the ball of her right foot, the ghostly cobalt embers flying towards the men. A ball of flame exploded on the chests of each one, sending them flying across the courtyard, where they lay still.

Then only one threat remained. The girl summoned another sphere of flame to her right hand, and with a flick of her wrist, it hurtled through the air trailing blue light. It slammed into the balcony with a small explosion, and collapsed the structure.

With a shriek, Jihl, who had been standing under it, attempted to move. She was too late. Pieces of stone and masonry rained down on her head, and she too, collapsed motionless.

Isaya looked at the girl dumbly as she raised her right hand. Essence rose from the corpses that littered the courtyard, and tendrils of iridescent energy rose into the air, coalescing into a small sphere above the palm of the girl's hand. It sunk into her hand and into her veins, which glowed faintly under her skin for a few moments.

This done, she at last leveled her gaze at Isaya. "Perhaps it's you who's overestimated his abilities." She said coolly as stepped towards him, prompting him to move away. "Or rather, those of your friends"

"Look, we can work this out . . ." He said, voice trembling.

The girl shook her head. "Did you 'work it out' with that woman you killed in cold blood? I didn't think so."

"Fine. I know when my game's up." He said, finding an ounce of courage at last. "Make it quick."

"Oh come now, Isaya, don't you trust me?" She replied.

She raised her right arm, and her hand became wreathed in cobalt flames. With a blinding flash, they leapt forward to bathe the man's chest in their teal glow. He screamed and fell to his knees.

When she halted the flames, his entire body was blackened, and blue flames glowed from cracks in the skin.

His head rolled back, and his agonized eyes met the girl's own. "Who are you?" He whispered.

The girl looked thoughtful for a moment, before saying simply. "I am Ahri."

With that, she moved behind the shocked, dying man and yanked his head back by his hair. In one smooth motion, she drew the dagger's blade across his throat, ending his life.

She threw him to the floor and stuck the dagger in her belt with trembling hands.

She had expected to feel elated with Isaya's death. She had expected to be ecstatic at having finally exacted her revenge.

But all she felt inside was sinking emptiness. She looked down at her hands, now stained with blood. Whether or not they had deserved it was irrelevant to her now, for the mere thought of the lives she taken made her sick to her stomach.

She recalled with horror what she had become earlier that night. She had_ enjoyed _chasing Jihl, and had savored the thought of killing her. She had laughed in the faces of the thieves as she had blasted them with fatal bursts of flame, and stolen their essence.

She really _was _a monster after all.

She had named herself, as the woman who had saved her life had suggested. She had named herself Ahri. But did she really deserve a name like that, after what she had done tonight?

"Nothing is written in stone," Ahri said softly, watching blood drip from her hands. "I choose my own fate. And I choose to be human, not an animal." There would be no more animalistic blood frenzies. She vowed it. She turned to Isaya's corpse. "And," She said, raising a hand to it. "There's only one way to do that." Essence sparked through the air and raced up her arm.

She turned to leave, but a pained groan stopped her in her tracks.

She whirled, and saw Jihl lying under a pile of rubble. Her blue hair was now black and matted with blood from a gash on her head.

"You're still alive," Ahri remarked in an almost bored tone.

"Yeah," She said. She spat blood into the dirt. "But you'll take care of that, I guess."

Ahri shook her head. "No. Killing you won't bring Ahri back. I'm done here." She was disgusted with herself and the death she'd wrought. She could stomach no more tonight. She turned to leave, but stopped when Jihl spoke behind her.

"You're really something, you know that? You just killed everyone here, and now you pretend like you have some set of morals to follow? You make me sick."

Ahri pulled her hood up and casually regarded Jihl, blood trickling from the corner of the thief's mouth. "You'll have to excuse me if I choose not to take your opinion to heart. I don't need to explain myself to anyone, least of all you." Ahri said evenly.

Jihl said nothing more.

Ahri turned her gaze from the girl to the horizon ahead. The sun was just starting to rise, tingeing the dark sky around it a dull orange. She took a deep breath of the cool dawn air and closed her eyes, feeling the rays of the sun play across her face.

Back to the old life. Her Humanity wouldn't earn itself, after all.


	11. Stormclouds

Weeks passed, and life went on. She had left the lights of Ionia far behind her.

A few short hours ago, she had come across an old, dilapidated house out in the countryside, perched atop a tall cliff with a waterfall spilling down the side. It seemed forgotten by time, nearly overgrown by vines.

The lone occupant, an aging man, had been easy prey.

Now, driving wind and rain crashed against the walls of tiny house, threatening to send its walls toppling. Wind howled and tore at the trees, and sent leaves whirling through the air like blades.

Ahri couldn't shake the sense that she was in danger here, but she dared not leave until the storm had passed.

She lit a lantern and set her dagger on an end table near the old couch and threw herself heavily onto it, sinking into the soft cushions and watching the rain dash itself against a window pane. Thunder cracked and lightning splitting the murky, green-grey sky.

She clasped her hands together as if she were praying to keep them from trembling.

She stayed there for what seemed like ages, scarcely able to move. The man that lived in this house alone, her last victim . . . It had been hard. So hard. She had hesitated, knife in hand. The man had begged, down on his knees, for his life.

That had only made it worse.

Eyes screwed shut, screaming to block out his pleas, she had plunged the dagger into his heart. And now, she was held captive by the storm in a house that hung heavy with the smell of blood and death. It was nearly too much to bear.

A single tear rolled down Ahri's cheek. Nothing could be worth the pain she felt. She didn't know why she regretted killing the man. In her head, it made as much sense as it always had. But her heart was wracked with pain for seemingly no reason at all.

And recently, she had been having nightmares about what she had let herself become the night of The Festival, a slavering, bloodthirsty beast, killing everyone in sight.

What was happening to her? She knew not.

What she did know however, was that she couldn't bring herself to kill again, even if it meant not ever being human.

That was it then. She would be forever cursed to inhabit a body that was not human, nor fox; it was a form that inspired fear.

She buried her head in her hands. She wished someone would help her, tell her what to do.

Slow, measured footsteps sounded on the wooden porch outside, snapping her out of her-self pity. She warily eyed the door, heart pounding in her ears as her fight or flight instincts kicked in. Slowly, the doorknob began to turn with a squeak of rusty old metal. That was impossible though, she was sure she had locked it.

The door swung open quickly, and a single figure strode in. Wind from the squall outside tore through the room, blowing out the lantern and ruffling Ahri's clothes and hair.

It was a woman, no larger than Ahri herself, dressed from head to toe in strange jade green armor. The lower part of her face was completely covered by a mask so that only her eyes and brow were visible. Through the dim grey light streaming in through the windows, Ahri noted the metallic glint of two wicked, sickle-like blades attached to her back. She gripped the hilt of one of them in her right hand as she strode over to Ahri, but did not draw it.

Ahri raised her hand and a flickering cyan ember flashed to life above her open palm. "One more step and you will be little more than a pile of bones and ashes."

The ominous figure halted her advance. "I would advise you to put out your flame, little fox," She said in a strangely melodious, yet serious, lilt that lacked any sort of mirth. "I've been looking for you for a long time."

Whoever this woman was, Ahri was in no mood to deal with her. "Lucky me." Ahri said sharply. "Now leave, or you will sincerely regret it."

"You will find that attacking me will have a . . . less than favorable outcome."  
"Don't be so sure. " Ahri retorted, unfazed. "I've learned a thing or two about fighting. Now I'm not going to ask again. Leave or die."

"I am afraid I cannot, Ahri. But that's not really your name, is it?"

Her curiosity piqued, she put out the glowing flame. "It's the only name I have ever known."

"If I am not mistaken, the true Ahri lies in a cemetery in the capital. Another of your victims, I'm sure."

"So you've seen her grave and you know I took her name," Ahri replied, tossing her head. "Is that a crime?"

"Do not insult my intelligence. I know what you've done, you butcher. Did any of those men you killed and robbed deserve to die? Did that old woman whose name you stole, who sheltered you, deserve to die?"

"I didn't intend to harm her, she-" Ahri stammered.

"What you intended and did not intend are none of my concern," the masked woman said coldly. "You've preyed on the weak and innocent for long enough."

"You don't know why I've done what I've done. You don't know my reasons."

"Nor do I care. Nothing you could say could possibly justify your actions."

Who was this woman to tell her that?

And why was she right?

" Wherever you tread, chaos and death follow. Your mere existence upsets the world's natural balance, and I, Akali of the Kinkou, have been sent to rectify the problem."

Ahri fumed. She was angry at this woman for hurling accusations at her, angry at herself for what she had done in the past.

"I don't think I've ever met someone who says so little with so many words." Ahri said, temper flaring. "If you're here to kill me, you should just say so."

The masked woman ignored the insult.

"How can you be so complacent after all you've done? Those people had wives, children; all lives that you've ruined!

"You condemn what you do not understand," Ahri said quietly. "And you refuse to hear me out. I suppose it has to be this way, then. Goodbye, Akali of the Kinkou."

In a flash, Ahri snatched up the dagger that had been lying on the end table and slashed wildly at the other woman, who drew one of her blades with an almost inhuman speed and parried it effortlessly, but Ahri did not let up. She threw herself into the assault, raining blows on her with savage fervor.

The woman was forced back step by step as she parried Ahri's flurry of dagger swipes. Ahri grinned inwardly. This would be a simple affair.

Then all at once, the woman feinted as Ahri lunged for her heart and clasped Ahri's wrist in a vise-like grip. She wrenched it around, causing Ahri to cry out in pain and drop the blade. She roughly shoved Ahri backward, sending her stumbling.

"It would be unwise to continue fighting," The woman was saying.

Ahri said nothing. Shaken but still unafraid, she snapped her fingers and a new ball of fire flickered to life with a dull _whump._ In a blur, she threw the fireball at the figure. It exploded dead center in her chest, only succeeding in jarring her slightly. Some of her clothing caught fire, but she did not seem to notice.

"Make your peace with whatever gods you worship, monster."

Akali lunged at Ahri, seeking to cut her throat with one of her kama and end the engagement quickly. But the girl spun to one side, the blade whipping harmlessly past. She raised her palm and propelled yet another ball of ghostly blue fire at her armored opponent.

She might as well have hit her with a pillow, for all the good it did.

"Pathetic. You can cast spells well, but they have no bite. It would seem you are out of options, Ahri." Akali said in an even voice. Her mask betrayed no hint of emotion.

The woman came at her again, this time brandishing both blades. She swung them in an X shape, hoping to turn her chest to ribbons. She would have succeeded had Ahri not stepped nimbly backwards. As she came at her again, Ahri delivered a series of quick kicks to his knees before delivering a powerful kick to her stomach, causing her to double over. Ahri raised her hand again and sent another gout of cyan flames into her face. She staggered backwards once more, but seemed otherwise unperturbed.

_What does it take to kill you? _Ahri thought to herself. _If I can't do something soon-_

Ahri's thoughts were cut short as her heel met the solid wood of the wall behind her. Her blood turned to ice water. Nowhere left to run.

The woman called Akali sheathed her weapons.

Ahri seized her chance. With a desperate cry, she raised both hands and summoned more fireballs that began swirling about her.

Quick as lightning, Akali's hand clamped around her throat, choking Ahri and causing the embers that danced around her to flicker out immediately. Ahri's hands flew to her neck, but Akali's grip was like iron.

Ahri struggled for breath as Akali effortlessly lifted the fox girl off the ground with her right hand and drew one of her blades with her left. Ahri was horrified and awed all at once. How could this woman who was no larger than she be this powerful? There was obviously more to her than appearances suggested.

Ahri's eyes widened in fear as Akali raised the blade of her Kama to her throat. In a desperate attempt to save herself, Ahri lashed out with a savage kick to Akali's chest, and rained blows on her with her left arm.

Her final assault seemed to irritate the woman, but little more. She lowered the arm that clutched the blade, and for an instant Ahri hoped she would release her.

She was partially right.

With a shout, the ninja hurled her through a nearby window. She sailed through it and into the storm outside.

Her head hit the wet ground with a dull thump, and pain raced through her skull like bolts of lightning, her arms and face covered with numerous streaming cuts from the broken glass. The pelting of icy rain on her face was all that kept her conscious.

She sat up slowly. She was dizzy, and found it hard to concentrate, but she tried to make out her surroundings anyway. She was some distance from the house, and behind her was the waterfall she had seen earlier. She had her back up against the wall again, figuratively, of course. She groaned. There would be no running, even if she wanted to.

She watched Akali stride slowly over to her with vision that blurred at the edges, rain dripping from her green armor in torrents.

She tried to stand, only to fall back down to her knees.  
"Such fight in you." Akali remarked. "The cornered animal fights the fiercest, I suppose."

"I am not an animal!" Ahri hissed through gritted teeth. She struggled to her feet once more. "I . . . am . . . human!" She cried.

Akali shook her head. "What true human slaughters her own kind for her own self-gain? No, you do not deserve to count yourself among us. Now give up. Your fight is finished."

"Not yet it isn't." Ahri said as she raised her palm again. This time, a large ball of surging blue energy coalesced, bobbing above her hand.

With a shout, she charged at Akali, commanding the ball to lash out at her as she did. It clipped her on the shoulder, causing her to stagger. Ahri followed up with a desperate, vicious blow across Akali's jaw that left her knuckles streaming blood. With savage fury, Ahri mentally commanded the ball to come back to her. It slammed into the small of Akali's back, causing her to cry out and sink to her knees. As Ahri pulled back her arm for another blow, Akali calmly caught Ahri's fist in her own and shoved the fox girl away. As she stumbled backwards, a stone turned underfoot, sending her crashing to the ground.

Ahri snarled and jumped to her feet once more, and gathering her composure, she made ready to defend herself. But Akali made no move to attack. Rather, she threw a small metal sphere at the ground near her feet. It exploded with a dull crack and smoke began hissing out of its broken shell, blossoming around the two women.

Before long, Ahri couldn't even see her hand in front of her face. She looked around frantically, trying to spot her opponent.

"Coward! Show yourself!" Ahri called out into the cloud. "So much for 'restoring the balance'."

As if in response to her mocking comment, something impacted heavily in the middle of Ahri's back, causing her to fall to her knees with a cry. Before she could stand again, Akali maneuvered in front of Ahri and lashed out with a kick that caught her under the chin. The girl flew backwards several feet out of the smoke cloud, landing at the very edge of the cliff, tails trailing behind. Ahri peered out over the edge at the pool of water fed by the waterfall some 100 feet down. It wouldn't be fun to fall.

Ahri coughed and spat blood onto the ground as she stood again.

"Just don't know when to quit, do you?" Akali inquired, moving out of the cloud, wisps of white smoke still clinging to her.

"Just not in my nature," Ahri said as she wiped blood from her lips with the back of her hand.

"I admire your courage. And your fighting prowess is worthy of a ninja. It's too bad I have to kill you ."

"Thanks."

"I don't suppose you'll make this easier on yourself and submit to your fate now?"

Ahri shook her head. "I've done too much, come too far to give up now. Sorry to disappoint."

"Very well. Have it your way."

She slashed at her with her Kama again, forcing Ahri back. She managed to avoid each swipe by a hair's breadth, but she was tiring quickly, and she heard the roar of the waterfall grow steadily louder with each step. She was running out of space in which to maneuver.

Triumph shone in Akali's eyes. She had Ahri on the ropes, and she knew it. But Ahri wasn't about to make this easy. But what could she do?

Something familiar at the back of her mind called to her then. Not with a voice, but something she could only describe as a sort of influence that encouraged her to focus on it. Gritting her teeth with a focus that brought tears to her eyes, she delved into the deepest corner of her mind. It is there that she found the very source of her magic. It was a curious thing, almost a second consciousness in itself. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew was the spark of her magic and she could feel it continuously generating energy.

She willed it to come forth.

She rose off the ground slowly, as much to Akali's surprise as her own. She let the magic take control, and like a gust of wind, she flew through the air towards Akali.

As she tore through the air, Ahri fired off several bolts of crackling blue energy towards Akali. She unflinchingly brought her blades up and slashed them through, causing them to dissipate in a shower of sparks, escaping unscathed.

"My, you're full of surprises aren't you? But you'll have to do better than that!" Akali taunted with a laugh.

More furious now, Ahri dashed forward a second time, and again her essence bolts were deflected. Akali laughed at the futility of her assault.

"How?" Ahri cried, teeth bared in frustration. "How can you be so much stronger than me?"

"Doesn't feel good to know that no matter what you do, death will come for you, does it? I imagine that fear is what your victims felt before you ruthlessly cut them down."

"Don't you lecture me about fear!" Ahri yelled, pointing at the green clad woman. "I have lived in constant fear for months now. I know it better than you ever will!"

She spiraled again through the air towards Akali, cracking off magic along the way. Akali held her ground, and as Ahri blazed past, she shot a hand out and caught the other woman about the throat.

"Your running and dashing tactics are amusing to watch, but none can match the speed of a ninja. Now . . ._submit!_"

She threw the Ahri high into the air, and stepped back to watch her crash into the rain-slicked rock at her feet. Ahri groaned and shuddered in pain. Akali placed a boot on her chest, laughing behind her mask as Ahri tried to push it away.

She spun a kama in her left hand, creating a glowing disk of whirling steel. Still laughing, she lowered it slowly towards Ahri's neck. Eyes widening in fear, she frantically pried at the boot crushing her ribcage.

No. Not like this.

She screwed her eyes shut and focused on that spark of magic within her again, this time willing every ounce of power it held within it to come to her aid.

She felt the familiar sensation of ice water racing through her veins, erasing her pain and fear, clearing her mind. Raw power raced through her limbs. She felt invincible.

When her eyes opened again, they glowed pale green and were absent of pupils. Green light limned her body, and magic burst from her, slamming into Akali like a ton of bricks.

Akali flew several yards before landing nimbly on both feet.

Slowly, Ahri rose, the air around her shimmering, ebon hair floating around her, defying gravity. She locked her incandescent eyes on Akali, face devoid of emotion.

""At last you've reached your true potential." Akali taunted. Come then, and face your death."

_"I control my fate! " _Ahri cried in a strange, echoing voice that was layered with magic. _"Not you, not anyone else!"_

She swung her gaze skyward and gave a great cry, and the green glow that surrounded her became flickering emerald flames. The very air twisted about her like a hurricane, whipping up pink blossoms in its wake.

And all around her, the land itself died as she tore the essence from it.

The grass wilted and became brown, the trees lost leaves, and countless insects curled up and died, legs twitching in the air. Essence surged into the woman's body , and she became hidden in a shining sphere of green light.

"_I may be neither man nor beast,"_ Ahri said in that voice that wasn't her own. _"But life itself bends to my will! I am Ahri, the Nine-Tailed Fox – this is my fate!" _

The sphere of life stealing energy expanded further, engulfing Akali. The ninja gave a gasp as she felt its icy touch. Her eyes were seared by the blinding green glow that came from everywhere at once, and the air was ripped from her lungs. She lifted a hand in front of her face. She watched in horror as trails of viridian energy snaked out of her fingertips. This woman was stealing her very soul.

She rose her kama skyward and chanted; "_The path between Light and Dark! Veil my blade in shadow . . . and silence my foe!"_

Akali's kama became wreathed in purple-black embers that absorbed all the light around it, deadening the magical vortex that swirled around Ahri.

Ahri's glowing eyes snapped towards the other woman.

"This game has ended, witch." She said. She swung her kama viciously, which tore easily through the layers of magic surrounding Ahri, but was stopped short by a stronger inner layer. This inner shield shattered with the impact, leaving Ahri gasping and stumbling backwards.

"Lights out." Akali jeered. She threw one of the shadowy kama. It scythed through the air and sliced through Ahri's right shoulder in a spray of scarlet blood.

Freezing shadows surged through her body from where the blade struck. She fell to her knees with a gasp.

"The shadows consume all . . . mana, life, it's all the same to them." Akali explained. "Which is why you'll find it quite hard to cast any more spells."

Crying out in rage and frustration, an exhausted Ahri thrust her hand at Akali's face, attempting to conjure another fox-fire.

Not so much as a spark leapt from her open palm.

Akali laughed as Ahri desperately tried to cast spell after spell, to no avail.

"That's it, then. I'm done. . . " Ahri said quietly, pulling her arm back.

"Oh, how the world will rejoice at your death! How it will sing at seeing balance restored-"

Ahri had had enough of this woman's cocksure ranting. "Just do it already!" She snarled.

Akali regarded her coldly before spinning and kicking Ahri in the ribs, sending her tumbling over the edge of the cliff.

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Ring out!_


	12. The Price

Ahri hit the water with a mighty splash that sent tremors of pain racing through her battered body. She reflexively cried out in pain, only to inhale a mouthful of water.

She frantically broke the surface, feeling the rain hit her face as she choked and spluttered. She wondered what the point of coming up for air was. She'd be dead soon enough either way.

Looking up, she saw the black outline of the cliff far above her, a white torrent of water spilling over the side in a great sheet, framed by the murky gold rainclouds above.

Akali would know she was still alive, and she would come, and she would kill her. She should be terrified, but instead, she felt only an odd sense of calm. It would appear that she wouldn't have to make the decision about whether or not to keep killing after all.

And it felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. And with that thought, she realized that what she had truly been wanting for a long time was an easy way out of this hellish situation in which her head and heart warred with each other, and she seemed to have found that in death.

She wanted to die.

She briefly wondered if she was finally losing her mind. Then she decided she didn't really care either way. It wasn't like sanity had been doing her any favors.

Slowly and painfully, Ahri sidestroked her way to the shore. Every movement sent spikes of agony shooting through her chest.

At long last, she reached the nearest bank and crawled out of the gently flowing water and lay down on her back, wincing with pain as she did so.

Carefully, she lifted up her shirt and looked at the area where she had been kicked. Her groan was more of frustration than pain as she saw several ribs poking at the skin at odd angles. Broken.

She lay her head down in the mud and looked up at the forest canopy.

She could think of worse places to die. In fact, this little place reminded her of the area where she had taken her first steps as a human so long ago.

She thought about everything Akali had said, and decided that she had been right about everything. She preyed upon the weak and innocent, brutally taken their lives. No true human would ever do such a thing, no matter the reason.

For the thousandth time, she wished she had just stayed away from that mage in the clearing so long ago. If she had, she wouldn't be here now, waiting for death to come and take her. But she supposed that wishing she could change the past didn't matter now. She had made her choices, and she would accept the consequences. And besides, she'd lived a much fuller life than she would have ever had as a fox, although she supposed she could do without all the pain and confusion.

She closed her eyes and was just about to drift off into unconsciousness when she sensed a presence nearby.

She lifted her head up to see Akali standing over her.

"I was beginning to wonder when you'd show."Ahri said.

"Yes, I had hoped the fall would kill you, but fate had other plans, it seems."

"Yeah. But I guess my luck's just about run out by now."  
"Indeed."

"Well what are you waiting for?" Ahri whispered through bloodied lips, barely audible over the splattering of raindrops. "Finish it."

"If you have any final words, you may speak them now."

"Sorry." Ahri whispered.

Akali lowered her weapon. "What?" She asked. Whatever she had expected the fox girl to say, it wasn't that.  
"I said I'm sorry. For killing, for stealing. All of it."

She paused for a few moments, looking the girl over.

"Liar." She hissed, and placed the Kama's blade to the white flesh of her throat.

"Akali! Stop!" A new voice boomed over the din of the storm, halting the blade's advance across Ahri's throat. She felt a single drop of blood drip onto her chest as she watched a figure stepped forward out of the rain. He was completely covered in dark blue armor, and his entire face was obscured by a mask, leaving only his eerily glowing eyes visible. Ahri shuddered. A deadly power radiated from this man, dark and cold and foreboding.

"Shen!" Akali snapped at the newcomer. "Do you know what this girl has _done?"_

"I am the Eye of Twilight, woman! There is nothing I do not know. And I know you have taken it upon yourself to kill this girl without my order. Do you know what harm you could have done if you had succeeded?"

"Harm? Shen, she's killed dozens of innocents! The world aches to be rid of her!"

"Rid of her as she is now, yes. But death is not always the answer. You were charged with pruning the tree upon your induction of the Order, but when will you understand that that does not always mean that you must act with violence?"

Akali looked as if she were about to speak, but instead hung her head in shame. "I apologize, Shen."

"Remove yourself, before you cause further damage."

"As you wish, Shen. And the girl?"

"She lives."

"But how do you know she will not-"

"She must be free to follow her path. Rest assured that it will be for the better. Her fate is intertwined with Valoran's own, as much as yours or mine."

"Very well."

Akali stalked off through the forest and out of sight.

Ahri, who had been listening to the whole conversation, eyed Shen with rapt attention.

"Thanks." She said.

He looked at her as if noticing her for the first time. "You heard me, girl," He told her. "You may go. I will take my leave, as well. But know this- the Eye of Twilight rarely takes mercy. Should I find that it was misplaced, I will return myself, and there will be no second chance." He turned to leave.

Ahri was stunned and nearly speechless. "What?" She demanded of the warrior. "What, is that it? You're just going to have your pet over there beat me within an inch of my life, then leave?"

Shen turned his head slightly towards her. "The Eye of Twilight sees many things," he droned. "If I have decided that you should live, it is for a reason. Be grateful that I arrived before Akali took your head." He continued walking away from her.

"You . . . you coward!" She called after him as lightning cracked the sky. She staggered to her feet. She was even more unsteady than when she had taken her first steps as a human. But that seemed like a lifetime ago. "Too afraid to finish what you started, huh? Come back here!" She picked up a stone near her feet and threw at him. It connected solidly with the back of his head.

Shen stopped in his tracks. Lightning split the sky again, and thunder crashed, echoing.

"That's it, isn't it?" Ahri cried. "Can't do it, can you?" A smile that was more like a grimace parted her lips. Shen turned and slowly walked over to her as Ahri flung her arms wide. "Come on! Kill me!"

"You seem very eager to die," He said.

Hot tears sprung to the girl's eyes. "Death is all I deserve." Shen approached until he was mere inches from her battered, desperate face. "I've lied, stolen, and murdered. This is the only path for me." Her head fell to her chest in defeat. "All those people I've killed . . . They didn't deserve to die that way, I know that now. None of them did." Tears were flowing freely now. She knew she was probably wasting her breath telling Shen all this, but it felt good to finally confess it all to _someone. _"I'm sorry. For everything, truly. I'm so, so sorry." She was sobbing now.

"Yes," Shen said without a trace of emotion. "I know."

Ahri looked back up at him. "What?" she choked out between sobs. "You . . . know?"

"As I said before, I see many things," Shen told her. "I know that you are sincerely penitent for your actions. It is part of the reason I spared you."

"I'm better off dead. I'm an outcast and a murderer. What can I do? Where can I go? You can't just leave me here!"

"It is . . . not our way to tell others anything of their destiny, or what their future holds. As I told Akali, you must be free to follow your own path. But as you say, you are completely lost. And how can one follow her path if she does not know where it starts?" He paused to think for a moment, and then resumed speaking. "When Akali said she was sent to correct the imbalance you were causing, she meant it. But violence to end violence is not always the answer, and so there are other ways of righting the equilibrium. If you are truly sorry, then undo some of the evils you have committed. Restore balance to your heart, and the world."

"But how? How can I make up for all I've done?"

"There are those that have use for talents such as yours" At this, he nodded at a burn mark on Ahri's clothing. "Those that know magic, and may be familiar with your unique . . . situation."

"Please!" She cried through tears. She reached forward and grabbed handfuls of Shen's tunic. "If there's a way I can make this right, tell me!"

Shen glanced down at her, seemingly ignorant to her outburst. "There is a place called the Institute of War. You may be of great use to them."

"Institute of War?" Ahri echoed, releasing Shen. "What is it?"

"Its purpose is too complicated to go into detail now. Suffice to say that its existence is for the good of all of Valoran. Go there, and you may find the redemption you seek."

"I will." Ahri said without hesitation. She took a deep breath to regain her composure, and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "I will find this Institute of War, wherever it is, and repair the damage I've done."

Shen nodded. "See that you do. I have taken a chance in sparing you. As I said earlier, if I must return, there will be no mercy."

"Fair enough." Ahri said evenly, tears stopping at last.

And with that, Shen turned and walked off into the torrential rain without a backwards glance.


	13. Epilogue

Ahri staggered to her feet. She placed a hand on the trunk of a nearby tree and siphoned off just enough of its life energy to heal her snapped ribs. She winced as she felt them slide back into place with a series of muffled cracks.

Her head pounded and her body was wracked with pain, but her heart was full. For the first time in her life, she had a direction. She walked over to a large pool of water, and was briefly reminded of the first time she had caught sight of her reflection, seemingly a lifetime ago.

She slowly took in her own tattered clothing and battered body. Clothes could be mended, and her wounds would heal, but one thing that could never be fixed was all the suffering she had caused. She knew that in her heart.

Her face was covered in blood and grime, and tears had carved tracks down her cheeks. But she was alive. The strange man that had called himself Shen had shown her mercy and held Akali's hand.

She looked at her own hands, and all the death they had wrought. She recalled all the times she might have shown mercy, and hadn't.

Nothing could ever make that right. But if this Institute of War, whatever it was, could make use of her, maybe she could try. Try to wash the blood off her hands.

"Mercy is a human luxury . . . and responsibility." She whispered softly to herself. Her morality, her choices, _that _was what made her human.

What had Irelia said the night of the Festival? _"We must all face that in ourselves that we would rather keep hidden, so that it may be cast out, thus making us stronger." _

She would remove everything that made her anything less than human. She would destroy the part of herself that had thrived on fear and blood.

No matter what she had done in the past, who she was now was whoever she decided to be. She was done being a thief and a murderer.

She glanced at the ears on top of her head, the whisker marks on her face, and the nine white-furred tales that curled around her. At first, she had expected them to disappear as she became more human, but she knew now that it was irrelevant. It was her _heart _that was slowly changing into a true human's, not her body. That was why she felt pain at taking another human's life. She had felt guilt for the first time in her entire existence, and had not known it until now.

Above her, the rain was letting up.

She moved out into a small clearing between some trees, and found herself atop another cliff. In the distance, the sun was rising over the horizon. The first rays of light shone on her face, and the gale of the storm had subsided to a soft breeze that tugged at her hair. She smiled in contentment.

Then she started walking.

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_That's it! I'm so glad I got the chance to put a new spin on my leading lady of League of Legends. Because after all, there's so much more to this foxy sorceress than the skanky prom date so many make her out to be. Look out for the Sequel, Just Cause, coming soon._


End file.
